


Fixing What's Broken

by MonPetitTresor



Series: Fixing What's Broken [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, But not your typical mpreg, Gabriel as Loki, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mpreg, Surprises, sort of God created, trickster archangel, you'll understand inside
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-17
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-27 08:17:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6276685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonPetitTresor/pseuds/MonPetitTresor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“When they prayed for God’s help to stop the apocalypse – they hadn’t expected Him to do something like this.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is already complete, it's just going through editing with the help of a rather fantastic friend, without whom this story wouldn't have been done near as fast. I'll post one a day as I get them edited :)

This was starting to get old, fast. 

Sam Winchester curled miserably over the toilet as his stomach emptied itself yet again of the measly breakfast he’d managed to put inside it. He held in a groan when he was finished and rested his cheek against his arm which was curled up on the seat of the toilet. It wasn’t comfortable but it was much better than actually laying his face there. He didn’t want to think of all the germs that would be on a motel room toilet seat. If he had any energy at all, he would’ve sat up. But he felt too tired and worn down to do more than lay there and fight the urge to whimper a bit too pathetically for his peace of mind. 

Whatever bug had nabbed him was proving to be a strange and nasty one. For a week straight now he’d been nauseous at the most random of times. Usually it hit in the morning, either right when he woke up or not long after breakfast, and then sometimes again in the middle of the day or at night, usually after dinner. The routine went the same every single time. His mouth would start to water and that sick feeling would come up out of nowhere and start climbing its way up his throat. Then he’d end up here, wrapped around the toilet – or once, on the side of the road, just barely out of the Impala – until his body emptied itself completely. Then, within the hour, he’d be fine except for the exhaustion that seemed to plague him. 

A voice through the door drew Sam’s attention up from his contemplation of the disgusting contents of the toilet. “You all right in there, Sammy?” 

There was a layer of frustration over Dean’s words that had Sam wincing. There was too much going on for them to be bogged down with some stupid cold right now. The apocalypse was still going full swing and they were doing their damndest to find a way to stop it. He didn’t have time to constantly be puking his guts out. 

“I’ll be out in a minute.” Sam’s voice cracked a little halfway through. 

Sam listened to his brother's footsteps head away from the door and cursed himself for feeling like this. The two hunters had worked through plenty of illnesses before. Their lifestyle didn’t exactly leave much in the way of options when one was sick. John had taught them early on to work through the pain – be it a set of stitches, a broken wrist, or even throwing up. Sam had seen Dean dig graves for a salt-and-burn while fighting off stomach cramps and leaning out of the grave to throw up every few minutes. 

Generally, of course, the older Winchester held different standards for a sick Sammy than he did for himself. He’d always made sure to take care of Sam. But right now they didn’t have that luxury. 

Not that it stopped Dean. They weren’t heading towards Bobby’s right now simply because they wanted to do more research or try to find a new plan like Dean was claiming. He knew his brother was trying to get him there where he’d then be able to force Sam to rest and be able to coddle him to his heart’s content. He could force Sam to do research and claim that was what they needed right now, all the while making sure Sam did it from the comfort of his bed or the couch, and underneath his and Bobby’s watchful eye. 

It was almost nice to see that side of his brother was still there – at least, when Sam wasn’t frustrated with it. 

Another wave of nausea hit and Sam quickly lifted his face, his back arching and his eyes watering groaned as his body tried to eject what wasn’t there anymore with enough force to make his whole body taut. He spat the taste of bile out of his mouth and sank back down, shivering. He was so ready to be done with this. 

Ten minutes later he stumbled out after cleaning himself up and brushing his teeth. The nausea seemed gone, at least for the moment, though the exhaustion had kicked in plenty hard enough. Curling up in bed sounded like the most amazing idea in the world. Not even the threat of Lucifer stalking his dreams was enough to deter Sam. 

He found his brother waiting for him with that worried look that he didn’t hide half as well as he thought he did. Eyebrows furrowed, eyes narrowed, lips turned down, all quickly hidden underneath a blank mask as soon as he realized Sam was looking. In their usual, silent way of things, a 7-Up sat waiting on the table. Sam’s lips curved up just slightly. The drink told him two things. One, it was Dean’s way of trying to take care of him without saying or doing anything that might get him teased or might come off as less than ‘tough’. And two, it also told him that laying down wasn’t going to happen. If he wanted Sam in bed, he would’ve put it on the nightstand right by the bed as a way to tell him that he should lie down. 

Sam shuffled over to the table and sank down into one of the chairs, ignoring the looks that Dean kept throwing his way. He pulled the drink over and took small sips, trying to put some moisture back into his abused throat. The bubbles felt wonderful and the flavor went down easy. The only time he could stand the taste of 7-Up was when he was sick.  

Of course, it came with a price. Sam wasn’t all that surprised when Dean said, “So, if you’re done horking up your guts, I figured we could hit the road and be to Bobby’s by lunch. Think you can make it without ruining baby’s upholstery?” 

Ah, there it was, true Dean Winchester caring, with a nice dash of asshole on top. Sam’s lips curved and he shrugged a shoulder before taking another sip. “Who knows?” 

“Dude, you puke in my car and I’m leaving your ass on the side of the highway.” 

It was a threat he’d made countless times in their life. One that Sam knew held absolutely no real truth to it. He could remember being fourteen and throwing up all over the backseat once when Dean hadn’t pulled over quick enough. His brother had mumbled countless death threats under his breath while all the while holding Sam’s hair and rubbing his back. Then he'd gathered Sam up with a gentle "C'mon, baby boy," and he'd gotten Sam out of the car, his nasty shirt stripped off, and had covered him instead in one of Dean's shirts. At the time, Sam had been still small enough to fit in them. He'd tried to apologize only to be cut off by a gruff "Shut up" from Dean. His brother had shoved him up into the passenger's seat and Sam remembered drifting off to the wind through the open doors and his brother's low curses coming from the back. 

Sam's lips curved up and he fought back the chuckle that wanted to slip free at Dean's faux threat. "Sure, Dean." 

The older Winchester rolled his eyes. "Shut up." There was a fond note to his words, though. 

In short order the two men were out in the car, which Dean had already loaded up before Sam even came out, and the rumble of the Impala provided a soothing sensation for Sam’s tired body. It only took a few miles and a couple of the soft rock songs on the station Dean had pulled up before Sam drifted off to sleep. 

Beside him, his brother gave a short nod. The Impala, and some soft rock, those never failed to put Sam to sleep. It was a lesson he’d learned early on in life and which apparently still held true today. 

He turned up the station just a bit and rode along peacefully while his brother slept beside him. 

* * *

The next time that Sam woke it took him a moment to figure out where he was. His brain remembered falling asleep inside of the Impala – how had he ended up in a soft bed? 

Thinking back, there was a faint impression of climbing out of the car. Dean's hands on him, steering him, and then a bed that smelled like the cedar chest where Bobby kept all his spare linen. That scent was still around him now and Sam snuggled down into the blankets, secure in the knowledge that this had to be Bobby's home. 

He wasn't sure how much time had passed while he'd been asleep. There was a hint of sunlight against his eyelids, so that was a bonus. It meant he hadn’t slept the day away or anything like that. Huddled in his blankets, Sam shifted so that he could open one eye without being blinded and he tried to squint past the light enough to see the windows. One look and he amended his previous thought. The sun was still up, but it was already on its way down. Damn. Between all the time he’d slept in the car as well as this ‘nap’ he basically _had_ slept the day away. What the hell? This thing was kicking his ass and he didn’t have time for it.  

Sam pushed one hand out from his cocoon of blankets and rubbed it over his face. Dammit. He was comfortable, still slightly tired – which was beyond mystifying, considering how much he’d freaking slept – and yet his stomach was rumbling loudly. His body was letting him know that he’d emptied it out earlier and he was in sore need of filling it back up again. But that would require getting up. 

Then again, maybe not. 

The door to the room opened and Sam snuck a peek past his hair, watching as Dean made his way in. His brother wasn’t carrying anything with him, yet it shouldn’t be too hard to convince him to go get something, right? 

Sam only entertained that thought for a moment before he forced it back. He was supposed to be convincing Dean that he was okay enough to work, not giving him more reasons to worry. Sam asking for food in bed would definitely make him worry. And really, he was doing that enough already. It showed in his eyes as he squatted down beside Sam’s bed and looked at his face. He had to see that Sam was awake. That didn’t stop him from reaching up and palming Sam’s forehead to check for a temperature. “Hey, man. You’ve been out for a long time. How you feeling?” 

“Better.” Sam said. It was true, too, in a way. He wasn’t nauseous anymore. 

The skeptical look on Dean’s face showed just how much he believed that. “Uh huh. Care to try that again without looking like you’re gonna fall right back asleep mid word?” 

Because he knew it would make his brother laugh and set him slightly at ease, Sam wrinkled his nose at him. “Bite me.” 

Sure enough it earned him a chuckle. Good. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. You planning on getting your ass outta this bed there, Your Highness, or you just gonna lounge around all day? Cas and Bobby are downstairs and Bobby’s trying to explain to Cas why we’re having breakfast for dinner.” 

It wasn’t that hard to picture the confused look that would be on Castiel’s face. He got that look every time they did something that just didn’t make any sense to him – which was often. For all that he was learning, the angel still didn’t understand a lot of things that humans did. The Winchesters were teaching him, though. Little by little they were teaching him. Though admittedly, if someone were going to teach anyone about what it’s like to be a human, or how to deal with humans, it probably _shouldn’t_ be a Winchester. They weren’t exactly known for being…normal. Or for dealing with things in a healthy manner. 

A yawn tried to break free and Sam just barely smothered it. “Bobby’s making breakfast?” That had appeal. Eggs, or some oatmeal. He wished they’d have fruit. 

Dean straightened up from his crouch when he saw that Sam was starting to move. “Yep. He made up a pot of his oatmeal, too, and even got you some of your stupid fruit to ruin it with.” He reached a hand out without thinking about it and helped to brace his little brother as Sam finally sat all the way up and then moved to his feet.  

The world spun around him when he reached his feet and Sam didn’t realize until his head cleared that he’d clutched at his brother’s shirt. He grimaced and made himself let go. “Stood up too fast.” He didn’t give Dean a chance to comment on it, though. “And my fruit isn’t stupid. It’s good.” Oatmeal and fruit was one of his favorite lazy morning breakfasts. Trust Bobby to remember something like that. 

Dean let him get away with pulling back. Still, he kept close as Sam started to make his way cautiously out of the room. He never stopped his teasing, though. “Whatever, dude. The whole thing is gross. It looks like someone threw up in your bowl.” 

“Oh, gross, Dean. Thanks.” 

His brother’s grin was just a bit too smug, the bastard. “Anytime, Sammy.” 

The two were still bickering together when they got downstairs. They were laughing together and arguing and it was pretty damn normal and Sam was enjoying every second of it. His recent issues with Dean were still fresh enough that he was enjoying the moments like this where they could feel like brothers again. After everything he’d done, every mistake he’d made, having moments like this meant the world to Sam. He was so caught up in it that he didn’t notice at first how Castiel froze at the sight of them. Not until Bobby’s questioning “Cas? You okay?” drew their eyes over to the angel. 

Sam stood by his brother’s side in the middle of the kitchen and looked over to where Castiel was frozen at the counter beside Bobby. He looked – well, he looked like someone had hit him with a two-by-four. If two-by-fours could bother angels at all. The wide eyed look on his face was the most human reaction that Sam could remember seeing from him and it made his stomach twist a little at how far their friend had fallen. Something prickled across his skin that had him wanting to reach up and scratch at his arms. He didn’t, though. The look Castiel wore had him frozen in place. 

Having Castiel stare at Dean was nothing new. Those two stared at each other all the time. Having him stare at Sam? And with such open shock? That was enough to put the whole room on edge. 

“Cas?” Dean called out. 

Sam couldn’t speak. His muscles tightened and any words he might've said got stuck in his throat. His heart beat a little faster and a slight tremor shook his hands until he curled them into fists to stop it. Unable to speak, he just stared back and held his breath as he waited for whatever this was. 

Bright blue eyes were locked on Sam and he got the uncomfortable feeling that Castiel was seeing down _inside_ him, or maybe _through_ him in some way. Then Castiel's eyes got even wider. “Sam.” His rough voice cracked just slightly on Sam’s name. When his eyes met Sam’s again, they were stunned, and it made that twisting feeling in Sam’s stomach worse. 

“What is it?” Dean took a step forward as if he were going to grab Castiel and force him to answer. When it came to his brother, one who was already sick, what little self-preservation Dean had went out the window. He wasn’t afraid to growl right at their friend and snap “What’s going on? What’s wrong with Sam?” 

Castiel never took his eyes off of Sam. “There is nothing wrong with Sam.” he said. That might’ve been more believable if he still didn’t look so freaking stunned. 

Then he opened his mouth again and what came out next was nothing at all like they'd expected.  

“Sam is pregnant.” 

The whole room seemed frozen in that moment. Bobby stopped his cooking and was just gaping at Castiel while holding a spoon dripping oatmeal. Sam felt as if he’d been turned into a statue. Every part of his body locked down tight and he felt as if he could barely _breathe_. There was shock, coupled with an almost instant disbelief. Pregnant? _Pregnant_? That wasn't possible. Men can't get pregnant! Castiel had to be wrong. 

Right on the tail of that came the thought – _When was Castiel ever wrong about something like this?_  

It was no real surprise that Dean was the one to speak up and break the silence. He did it with a loud snort that quickly turned to a sarcastic sounding laugh. “Yeah, real funny, Cas. Glad you finally found a sense of humor.” 

“I am not trying to be funny.” Castiel said. His voice was so somber, so serious, it wiped the laugh right out of Dean. The angel tilted his head curiously, brow furrowing for a second as he watched Sam, who was still frozen in place and trying to remember how to breathe. An alarmed look crossed Castiel’s face and he was across the kitchen in an instant and Sam found himself gently but firmly being pushed down into a chair. Then Castiel was squatting down in front of him and he had one hand on Sam’s chest, right over his pounding heart, and his other hand still held Sam’s shoulder where he’d pushed him down before. His intense blue eyes pinned Sam in place and held him there as the angel firmly said “ _Breathe_ , Sam. You need to _breathe_.” 

The gasp that Sam finally sucked in seared straight down to his lungs. Castiel kept his hand in place as Sam forced himself to draw in breath after breath, trying to steady himself somehow, make the world stop spinning around him. He wanted to brush off what Castiel had said just like Dean had. He wanted to laugh it off and tell him how stupid a joke this was. 

But Sam found the words locked behind his teeth as he saw the softness in Castiel's expression, so at odds with his usual hard look. His eyebrows were down and his eyes were so much gentler than Sam could remember ever seeing them. 

Dean moved over the instant that Castiel had pushed Sam down into a chair and he put a steadying hand on the back of Sam’s neck. His older brother's presence grounded Sam, gave him an anchor. Yet Sam still couldn’t look away as Castiel straightened back up and stood over him. 

“Sam can’t be pregnant.” Dean said, a snap in his words. Underneath it was a hint of a desperate plea that only Sam could probably hear. “In case you haven’t noticed, Cas – Sam’s a dude. Dudes can’t get pregnant!” His hand tightened on Sam's neck and he pressed forward, as if somehow drawing Sam closer would be able to protect him from the argument going on right over Sam's head. 

“Your brother has been blessed by our Father." Castiel said. "Only He could have done something such as this.” A hint of awe was creeping into his eyes that Sam couldn't quite share, nor could he see on anyone else. Couldn't Castiel tell just how freaked out the humans around him were? 

It was Bobby who stepped up next, the spoon back in the pot. Whatever shock had been on his face before was gone now. The calm look he wore instead was a mask Sam had seen countless times on the job. The easy, relaxed expression that they all used when they were impersonating cops, or trying to speak to victims. “You’re gonna have to give us a bit more detail there, Cas. Cause last we knew, Sam here was human, an human men don’t got the right…equipment to be carrying kids.” 

“As I said, he’s been blessed by our Father.” 

Blessed? Castiel thought he was blessed? Sam fought to keep his breathing under control again. _This isn’t possible._ There was no way that he was pregnant! “It’s not possible, Cas.” Sam knew his voice probably sounded just as desperate as he felt but he couldn’t bring himself to care or to get it under control. “It’s not! I’m not…I can’t be pregnant! Even if God really was gonna bless someone with this, He wouldn’t pick _me_!” 

“Woah, woah.” Dean spun, twisting himself enough that he could glare down at Sam without ever letting go of his neck. “What the hell do you mean, He wouldn’t pick you?” 

Was he serious? Sam looked up at his brother incredulously. “I’m not exactly Heaven’s favorite here, Dean. I’m an _abomination_. You really think they want me to, what, carry some _holy child_? I’m the last freaking person they’d pick!” He spun back towards Castiel. “You’ve got to be wrong. It’s…it’s a spell or a curse or some kind of trick or something, that’s all.” 

Castiel eyes flashed with sadness at Sam’s words. He stunned the hunter by once more crouching down in front of him. This time, he clasped Sam’s hands in his own. “Sam Winchester, you have been blessed. Our Father does not make choices lightly, nor does He make them wrong. He has blessed you with this fledgling. Why, I do not know. I know only that it’s His Will. His reasons are beyond that which we could hope to understand.” 

“Wait…fledgling?” Bobby said. “You mean he’s carrying an _angel_ in there?” 

Sam wasn’t sure which was more stunning – hearing his father figure so easily accept the fact that Sam was _freaking pregnant_ , or seeing Castiel nod and confirm that it wasn’t just a baby he had in here, it was an _angel baby_. “I can see its grace.” Castiel said. “It was how I knew Sam was pregnant. I can see the tiny growing grace inside of him.” His expression turned even more serious than before and Sam swore his heart froze in his chest. He knew what was coming before Castiel spoke. He’d known it was coming from the instant that Castiel had said ‘fledgling’. Wishing there was some way he could stop this before it got any further, Sam could only watch as Castiel spilled out a secret Sam hadn’t wanted anyone to know. “Samuel, for this to happen – this is not an immaculate conception. There would need to be an angel involved for grace to take like this inside of you.” 

“You mean…Sam had to sleep with an angel?” Dean sounded stunned. “But, who?” 

Tilting his head, Castiel looked at Sam, his worry coming off of him so strong Sam could feel it. Feel it making his stomach churn even more. “Sam?” 

The nausea built even more. Sam opened his mouth, not sure how to answer, not sure what he could even say here. His stomach took away any chance at answering. 

With a feeling of embarrassment and horror, Sam threw up straight into Castiel’s lap. 


	2. Chapter 2

Time didn’t seem to be helping this sink in any. Neither was the space that Sam had insisted on. After throwing up all over Castiel – and was there anything more embarrassing than that? – he had shamelessly scrambled out of the room under the pretext of needing to be near a toilet to throw up in. A rather good reason, he thought. So what if he’d spent more time in here panicking than actually throwing up? Considering the crap that Castiel had just dumped on him, Sam figured he had every right in the world to sit here and freak out. 

He wanted to deny with everything in him that anything the angel had said could be true. He wanted to refuse to believe that he was – dammit, he couldn’t even say it without stuttering – _pregnant._ Men didn’t get pregnant! And men like him didn’t get magically pregnant with a fledgling that had apparently been created and blessed by God Himself! Sam wasn’t Heaven’s child. That was Dean. No, Sam was Hell’s child, marked for them since he was six months old. 

Sam curled his hands tight in his shirt, arms wrapped around his waist, and tried to keep from throwing up yet again. This time the nausea didn’t have a physical cause. This one was purely mental. 

He didn’t want to go back out there. If he went out there they’d want to talk about this. They’d want to ask him questions that he really didn’t want to have to answer. And if he went out there, he was going to have to…to admit this was real. Like hell he wanted to do that. This couldn’t be real. No way. How was this supposed to even work? 

A pounding on the bathroom door snapped Sam’s head up. “Sam.” 

_Go away,_ he wanted to yell. 

“Sammy, come on.” Dean tried again. “We gotta talk about this. You can’t hide out in there.” 

_Watch me_. Running a hand over his face, Sam pushed down the urge that told him to just go, to get the hell away from here. Away from all of this. “I’ll be out in a minute.” 

There was a second of hesitation like Dean didn’t quite believe him. Then he heard his brother’s footsteps making their way away from the bathroom. 

Much as he wanted to hide out here he knew that Dean was right. He couldn’t. This wasn’t something that one could just _hide_ from. Considering it was happening inside of his body there was just no getting away from it. _I can’t be pregnant_ , he thought, cradling his hands over his stomach. _I just can’t. This – it’s impossible!_ Really, though, they should’ve learned by now that nothing was impossible. This was just another example of God’s twisted humor. Sam just wished he knew what the hell God thought He was going to accomplish with… with _this_. 

Eventually the hunter pushed his way up to his feet. A quick brush of his teeth and he finally felt a little more normal. Well, as normal as he was going to get. 

He found everyone waiting for him in the living room when he came out. The first place his eyes went to was Castiel. A hint of a blush colored Sam’s cheeks. The angel's clothes were clean and there was no scent left behind to mark what had passed, yet all Sam could think of was that he'd thrown up on their friend. He'd thrown up on an _Angel of the Lord._  

Castiel showed far more perceptiveness than he once would have. He smiled – a gentle smile that Sam had never seen turned his way, nor ever expected to see. “Are you feeling better, Sam?” 

The question seemed so strange coming from Castiel. Sam couldn’t stop the uncharitable thought of _Since when does Cas actually care how I’m feeling about something?_ He quickly squashed that down and felt guilty for even thinking it. “I’m fine, Cas.” He said instead. “I, um, I’m sorry about, well…” His hand gestured lamely towards Castiel’s now-clean clothes in hopes that the angel understood. 

Surprisingly, he did, and his smile gentled even more. “It was a simple thing to clean. Don’t worry. I understand nausea is a common symptom so early in gestation.” 

Okay, that was never going to _not_ sound weird. 

The way that Castiel was looking at him felt sort of creepy, if Sam were going to be honest. Mostly because Sam was much more used to either being ignored or getting not much from Castiel. The angel tended not to be all that expressive. Seeing all these smiles and this gentleness was just…creepy. 

Dean broke the moment in true Dean style. A loud snort echoed in the room and he rolled his eyes as everyone looked at him. “Yeah, and that’s going on the list of one of the strangest things anyone’s ever said to my _brother_.” Still, despite this whole thing, despite the tension that Sam could see on him, there was still the concern that was never far when Sam wasn’t feeling well. Dean gestured towards the couch with one hand. “Go sit down before you puke again, Samantha.” Then he paused, snorting again at his own words, and Sam had a bad feeling that he was going to be hearing a whole lot more of that nickname for the next little while. 

Sitting down wasn’t a bad idea, though. The nausea was gone for the moment but there was no telling when it would come back. 

But at the same time he didn’t really want to go sit down. The only seat was the couch and it was on the other side of the room. No exits. He’d be stuck there, unable to get away from their questions. The way Dean was looking at him told him that this was a deliberate thing. His brother wasn’t going to let him get away with running again. 

“Sit down, Sam.” Bobby broke the staring between them. His voice was firm, the one that both boys knew meant not to argue with him, but there was something softer about it as well. When Sam looked at him, he nodded towards the couch. “He aint gonna let you get outta this no matter what. Might as well rest while we talk. No matter what this is, angel baby or not, you’re still sick an tired. Go sit down.” 

That was as close to a caring speech as any of them tended to get. Sam tried not to sigh and gave up on any chance of getting out of this. He dragged himself over to the couch and flopped down with little grace. “Let’s get this over with.” Blowing out a breath, he looked up to Castiel, who was standing closer to him than to Dean at the moment – another strange thing. “You’re absolutely sure about this, Cas? I mean… really sure. Cause you gotta understand how strange this is. I’m not exactly… I don’t have the right parts for something like this.” 

“You have what is necessary.” Castiel told him. He tilted his head and Sam once again got the sensation of being looked _through_ instead of _at._ The angel lifted one hand towards him and his eyes cleared again to focus on Sam’s. “May I?” 

The request was clear. Sam hesitated only briefly before nodding. A moment later Castiel’s fingers were on his forehead in a familiar gesture of healing. There was a brief moment where Sam felt the soothing wash of grace over him. Then his whole body gave a shudder and Sam was moving without consciously choosing to do so. There was a twist of something inside of him and a panicked feeling of _Nogorunsafeprotectnonono_ that screamed inside of him. When his head cleared, he was off the couch and against the wall, body tucked in the corner and one hand pressed protectively over his stomach. Dean had shoved off the wall and was reaching out towards him while it looked like Bobby was trying to pull back Castiel, his wheelchair in front of the angel like some kind of barrier. For his part, Castiel slowly straightened up, watching Sam with wide eyes. “I’m sorry, Sam.” He said immediately. 

Dean shoved himself between them and some of the panic inside of Sam relaxed a little at having the shelter of his brother right there. No matter the crap going on, he knew Dean would keep him safe. It was something burned down into every inch of him. “What the hell was that, Cas?” Dean demanded in a growl. “What’d you do to him?” 

“I sought only to check him and ensure his and the child’s health.” Castiel said. His eyes never left Sam. “I’m so very sorry, Sam. I didn’t realize that your body would react that way.” He must’ve sensed that they were still confused because he hurried to explain. “You felt my grace and perceived it as a threat to the child. It would appear there are instincts that come with this pregnancy. You felt threatened and reacted accordingly to protect both you and child.  

“I didn’t…” Sam had to fight to calm himself enough that his voice would come out steady. “I know you won’t hurt us, Cas.” Was that entirely true, though? He knew what angels thought of him. Castiel was better than most. He’d come down on their side in the end. But there was a part of Sam that always wondered if Castiel simply put up with him because he was connected to Dean. He knew what the angel thought of him. The very first time he'd met Castiel, the angel hadn't even wanted to shake his hand. " _Sam Winchester"_ he'd greeted him. _"The boy with the demon blood."_ Those words had stuck with Sam. If an angels as nice as Castiel had thought that of him during their first meeting, Sam shuddered to think what the others might call him. 

Castiel’s smile took on a sort of sad quality. He said nothing, though. 

The panic was slowly fading away bit by bit. When Sam finally sat back down, Dean started to move away, only to stop when Sam made a soft noise. Embarrassment colored the younger Winchester’s cheeks and he deliberately didn’t look at his brother. Dean got the hint, though. They’d always done great at non-verbal communication. Without saying a word or drawing attention to what he was doing, Dean perched on the armrest of the couch. It was easier with him close and Sam relaxed a little more. 

“All right then.” Getting comfortable, Dean drew them all back on topic. “So, first things first, I guess. What’re we gonna do about this? Can we get rid of it?” 

Castiel’s head snapped up and his mouth actually dropped open in a human display of utter shock. 

Something tight and hot clenched at Sam’s heart and he found himself drawing back ever so slightly. Without realizing it, one arm slipped up to protectively wrap around his stomach. Dean wanted to get rid of it? Despite how terrified he’d been so far, the idea of getting rid of the baby had never occurred to Sam. Not once. Sam's eyes went wide and he could hear his own breathing hitch as he looked up in disbelief at his big brother, the one he'd been so sure would look out for them in this. He couldn’t believe that it was _Dean_ of all of them that would suggest it. 

“We do not ‘get rid of it’, Dean.” Castiel said, sounding furious and shocked and so much more. His shoulders were tense and his voice hard. Little bits of grace showed behind his eyes, making the blue even brighter than normal. 

“We’re kind of in the middle of the apocalypse.” Bobby pointed out. His chair was once more parked in front of his desk. “We aint exactly got time for a kid comin’, Cas. An I don’t think Lucifer’s gonna be all that pleased.” 

“Neither archangel will be pleased.” Castiel said. His voice was grave, a heavy edge to it. “But my Father wouldn’t do this unless He had some sort of plan.” 

“And what plan’s that?” Dean demanded. 

Castiel held his hands out in a human gesture of uncertainty he’d most likely picked up from, well, probably from Sam. “I don’t know. I don’t know His mind, Dean. But be assured, there is a plan even if it’s one we cannot see yet. Until we know all the facts, we can’t begin to speculate. Sam, we need to know – who is the angel that you mated with?” 

Such blunt terms. Sam couldn’t help but wince. His lips pressed together in a thin line as if physically locking the words inside. This was the one thing that he hadn't wanted to give to them. It was probably going to go over even worse than the idea of the whole pregnancy itself. Unfortunately, his brother seemed to be even more perceptive today than normal, and it didn’t take him long at all to put together the pieces of the puzzle. He must've read something in the tense lines of Sam's face, the way his eyes wouldn't quite meet anyone's.  

“Are you kidding me?” 

He looked up to find Dean staring down at him. There was a look on his brother’s face that was somewhere between disbelief and disgust, with a dash of anger throw in, and Sam knew that Dean had guessed. 

“Really, Sam?” Dean said, scowling. “Him? _Him_?” 

Sam closed his eyes and tried to swallow down the lump in his throat. In his memories came the images of laughing amber eyes, flashing gold in the light, turning to liquid honey as they filled with heat, staring at him like he was beautiful. Like he was something special. He remembered the feel of hands on his skin and the sounds of laughter that were broken by moans. The sharp bite of teeth against his bottom lip. Fun and danger and heat and passion and so many things all rolled up into one neat little package. 

A shudder ran down him and he jerked himself back from those memories like they’d burned him. Avoiding those memories was a skill he was a little too good at. 

“How long? How long you been sleeping with that douchebag?” 

“Since Crawford Hall.” Sam said. He flinched when Dean cursed loudly and shoved up off the couch. Staring down at his hands, Sam tried to keep calm. He tried not to shout or scream or whatever this knot inside of him was demanding he do. “Just sort of, off and on. Nothing serious. We’re not anything serious. It’s just, it was a few times we fell into bed, that’s all.” Or against a wall, on the hood of the car, taken from a strange diner and transported to whatever room of the week the trickster/archangel was using. 

The others seemed to realize then who they were talking about. Castiel, if anything, looked even more awed than before. “Gabriel.” his eyes ran down to Sam’s stomach. “The fledgling of an _archangel_. He will be well suited to keep you and the child safe…” 

“No!” Sam's head snapped up and his voice was firm. The others went silent and Sam saw Castiel was about to protest, he shook his head. “No, Cas. I’m not telling him.” 

“Why the hell not?” Dean snapped at the same time that Castiel said, “This is his child, Sam.” 

“I don’t care. I’m not pressuring him into something that he’s not gonna want.” Sam curled his hands into fists and tried not to let them shake. This emotional roller coaster he was on was leaving him feeling on edge and out of sorts and he _hated_ it. But on this, he would stay firm. “We don’t work like that. Half the time we’re fighting before anything. He’s not going to want this and I’m not gonna trap him here with it. I won’t do that.” 

“How do you know he doesn’t want it if you won’t tell him?” Bobby asked, trying to be reasonable. 

But Sam was a bit past reasonable. This was just, this was one stone too many. “This is my body. I’m the one that God apparently decided needed to be an even bigger freak than before, and it’s my right to decide what to do here. No one else’s. I’m not telling him.” With that, Sam pushed up off the couch. This was done. He’d had _enough_. “I’m tired and I’m going to bed.” He told them all flatly. He didn’t give anyone a chance to protest before he was hurrying off towards the stairs. Right now he needed to be as far away from here as possible. 

* * *

Downstairs, Dean had to snag Castiel’s sleeve to keep him from trying to follow after Sam. When the angel turned back to him, he let go. “Dude, let him go. He’s not gonna give in.” If there was anyone that Dean knew, inside and out, it was his baby brother, and he knew better than all of them that right now Sam had reached the end of his rope. This was too much information to process all at once and there was no way he was going to do anything more tonight. 

“My brother has a right to know.” Castiel said firmly. 

“Yeah, he does.” Dean saw the surprise on Castiel’s face and snorted. “What? I may not like the douche, but that’s his kid and if I were him, I’d wanna know. He’s got a right. Sam knows that, too. He’s just scared.” 

“Of what?” 

“What do you think, Cas? Sammy doesn’t do shit halfway. Casual relationships were always my thing, not his. If he’s been falling in and out of bed with the trickster since that first time we met him, you really think he doesn’t have some kind of feelings for him?” The thought pissed Dean off, but he was starting to think that pretty much every relationship Sam was in since he’d lost Jess was just doomed to do that. This whole thing was a giant freaking mess and Dean firmly intended on drinking himself into oblivion later on to avoid thinking about it. First, though, he had to do about the only thing he could do right now and that was look out for his brother. “Either Gabriel turned him down on it, or Sam found out he was an archangel and freaked out and thinks he doesn’t stand a chance now. Knowing my brother it’s probably the second one.” 

Bobby was quiet, watching them silently, but Castiel was looking at Dean with surprise. “You believe he loves him.” 

That had Dean scowling. “Dude.” He gave Castiel a look to let him know just how much he hated having to hear that. When Castiel just watched him, the hunter sighed. “Okay, yeah. Yeah, I’m almost positive he does – even though I could’ve swore he hated that dick as much as I do. Whatever, that’s his crap taste in people. What it means, though, is that he’s gonna be scared shitless about how Gabriel’s gonna react about this. And when Sammy’s scared, he runs. It’s how he’s always been. The fact that he’s upstairs and not out in a car tearing outta here is a good sign.” 

“Give him time, Cas.” Bobby interjected. “This is a lot to take in. He needs to think.” 

There was no answer for a long moment. Then, without ever saying a word, Castiel vanished with a rustle of feathers and a gust of wind to mark his passing. 

Quiet fell over the room. Dean lifted a hand and rubbed it over his face. How the hell did Sam get himself mixed up in these kinds of things? Was there just something about him that attracted all the crazy in the world? He was pregnant – and by the biggest dickbag archangel they’d met so far. One who he was apparently refusing to tell. Meanwhile, they still had the apocalypse to deal with, Michael and Lucifer fighting to get to their vessels, people dying all over the place as they got caught up in the mix, and they had absolutely no plan whatsoever on how to stop it. 

A glass was thrust in front of him and Dean looked up to find Bobby had wheeled himself over and was offering Dean a glass of – something. He held one for himself in his other hand. 

Dean took the glass and downed half of it in one gulp. The burn did little to chase away the twisted feeling he had inside. “Bobby…” He trailed off, not quite sure what to say. 

“Yeah.” Bobby said. He sounded kind of like Dean felt, not quite sure, worried, and sort of resigned. 

The two stayed quiet as they finished their drinks. 

* * *

It was sort of scary how quickly you could adjust to something. No one pushed Sam to talk when he came down after the nausea gave way the next morning. They didn’t push him to talk at all, really, and he was grateful. He didn’t want to talk. Apparently they’d decided to just stick out here like they’d originally planned. Maybe they thought they were giving Sam time to adjust. Maybe they were taking time for themselves to adjust. He had no idea and, frankly, he didn’t care. So long as no one mentioned it he could sort of pretend it didn’t exist. 

Over the next week the wave of terror and disbelief that Sam had felt upon finding out he was pregnant slowly faded away. Most of the time he didn’t even really think about it. He threw himself into research, because insane pregnancies aside, there was an apocalypse looming over them and they needed to figure out how to stop it. 

That was the source of the first real fight between everyone. Because Dean was dead set that Sam wasn’t getting near anyone or anything until ‘this whole – you – thing – _this_ is dealt with!’ while Sam was refusing to just sit back on the sidelines and let the apocalypse pass him by. Okay, yes, he could admit that he wasn’t exactly up for hunting right now. The thought of what could happen, what could be lost with a single blow to the stomach, left him gripped by an icy terror that he couldn’t even begin to explain to his brother. That didn’t mean that he was just going to hole up at Bobby’s and do _nothing_ , though. 

“What do you expect me to do, Dean?” Sam shouted at him. “Lock myself in the panic room and hide out for the next nine months!” 

“If it keeps you safe!” Dean shouted back. 

Sam was still convinced it was only the pregnancy that had kept their argument from devolving into blows. In the end, the two had stormed away from one another. Dean went outside to rant and rave and do whatever the hell it was he did when pissed. Sam went to his room with the intention of ignoring everything in favor of research – he was _not_ sulking! He _wasn’t_! – and ended up falling asleep instead. 

He slept a whole lot more. That was another thing that changed. His appetite hadn’t really come back yet, but he slept a lot more than he had before. Castiel seemed to think it had something to do with the grace in him drawing on his energy. 

They didn’t mention Gabriel again. Castiel tried, once. Sam simply got up and walked out of the room. He knew the angel wasn’t going to stop him. 

Sam was content to keep from thinking about that fact as much as possible. He drowned it even further than he did everything else and buried it with research and reading and pretty much anything else he could think of. In the middle of the night, when those eyes haunted him, when the voice inside his head whispered to him that they were right, that Gabriel deserved to know, he shoved it down even further than ever. 

Until one day, almost a week after everything went crazy, the choice was taken out of his hands. 


	3. Chapter 3

It seemed sort of fitting that everything went to hell while Sam was once more bent over a toilet. Later, he would wonder how on earth this managed to become his life. At the time he was too busy cursing his stomach for being so fragile lately and wishing that the nausea, which had thankfully started to fade a little these past few days, would finally go away. 

He was just wiping his mouth and flushing the toilet in the hopes of getting rid of the smell that only made him feel worse, when there was a soft rustle of feathers. Something inside of Sam jumped a little at that sound. Before he could even start to turn his head, he heard a voice that was very much _not_ Castiel’s. 

“I’ll be damned.” A familiar voice said, its usual snark absent. “He wasn’t lying.” 

Sam’s whole body tensed up even as a happy sort of warmth spread through him. There was a part of him that was beyond thrilled at even just the sound of that voice, a voice he would’ve recognized anywhere. The rest of him was tense as if in preparation for a fight as he lifted his head to look up. He found the archangel Gabriel leaning against the bathroom counter staring down at him like he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. 

The sight of him did things to Sam that he couldn’t ever voice out loud. There was desire, of course. He’d found himself attracted to him even back when he’d thought him nothing more than a janitor. If anything, it’d been easier to be attracted to him then. That attraction hadn’t faded, though. It’d only grown stronger. But, there were other things as well. Things that he didn’t even want to admit to himself. If he admitted them, then he’d have to admit just how hopeless they were, how futile it all was, and he just wasn’t sure he could take that. Especially not with everything that was on his plate right now. 

The shock of seeing Gabriel actually standing there kept Sam silent and frozen for one long beat. Then his words sank in and Sam realized that Gabriel hadn’t just randomly showed up here – he’d been _told_. Someone had actually gone out and _told him_ despite Sam’s demands not to. There was only one person he could think of that would do that and he felt a wave of fury for their slowly falling angel. How dare he? How dare Castiel do what he was pretty sure he’d made clear he didn’t want them to do? He hadn’t wanted Gabriel to know! Hell, he hadn’t even adjusted to the fact yet and now he had to deal with Gabriel on top of it and he just wasn’t ready for that. 

“I take it Castiel found you.” His words were supposed to be flat and even, only his throat was already sore from throwing up and they came out as a sort of scratchy croak. 

Gabriel winced a little and snapped his fingers. A bottle of ginger ale appeared on the ground beside Sam’s feet. “You sound like shit, kiddo.” 

“Throwing up does that to you.” Sam said dryly. He ignored the ginger ale. 

“I can smell that.” He wrinkled his nose as if to attest to that. A snap of the fingers later and the room had a much nicer, sort of herbal smell to it. Then he tilted his head at Sam in a look that was sort of familiar, one he did when Sam did something that he seemed to find unexpected, and once again the hunter was hit with the amazement that he’d never even managed to guess that Loki was Gabriel. “I thought for sure this had to be some elaborate trick, but he wasn’t lying.” 

Before he could stop them, the bitter words slipped past Sam’s lips. “That’s more your thing.” 

To his credit, Gabriel didn’t miss a beat. “Seems like keeping secrets is yours.” 

The barb hit home and Sam flinched a little. His still nervous stomach twisted a bit more and he put a hand flat against it in hopes of calming it down. “Do we have to do this now?” he asked. This whole conversation would be bad enough as it was. Having it right now just wasn’t the best idea. “I’m getting awfully tired of dealing with big crap when my stomach’s busy trying to eject itself. For once, I’d like a little respect and privacy.” 

“From my understanding, catching you when you’re not throwing up is difficult. I’d rather not talk to someone who’s sleeping. Besides, I’m not looking to give you time to wriggle away, Sambo. Way I hear it, you weren’t exactly all that keen on having me here to begin with.” 

Okay, so apparently they were doing this now. Great. Because he always wanted to have tough conversations while sweaty and nauseous and sat next to a toilet. Didn’t everyone? 

“Meh.” Gabriel said with a shrug. “I’ve had em worse places.” 

“Stay out of my head.” Sam snapped reflexively. He knew better than to truly expect anything different. Back when he’d been just Loki, the trickster had explained that he couldn’t really block out surface thoughts. Deeper ones seemed to stay hidden. At least, Sam assumed so, or else they probably wouldn’t be having this talk at all because Gabriel would’ve bolted on him a long time ago the instant he found out about the feelings Sam kept so carefully hidden. 

True to form, Gabriel didn’t respond to that. He just pulled a sucker out of his seemingly endless supply of candy in his pocket and unwrapped it. Only when he had it in his cheek did he speak again. “So…” 

“So, what?” Sam cut in. He felt cornered here, and the instinctive reaction to that was to become defensive. When defensive, Winchester men always went on the attack. It seemed to be something bred into them that Sam had never quite been able to kick. It hardened his tone and sharpened his glare to something a lot fiercer than he actually felt. “What do you want here, Gabriel? You wanted to see if Cas was telling the truth? Fine. You can see that. Now why don’t you fly back off to where he found you and go back to playing your games. I’m fine, the baby’s fine, we’re all fine.” 

Gabriel’s eyebrows shot up at Sam’s sharp words and then drew down as he narrowed his eyes. “Woah there. What crawled up your ass, Winchester?” 

“Apparently some angelic _thing_ your Dad decided I needed to carry.” Sam shot back. 

The look on Gabriel’s face would’ve unnerved him at any other time. He had never once forgotten that the being he occasionally slept with was pretty damn powerful. He knew the Loki side of him – far better than he did the Gabriel side – and he knew Loki’s temper. “Watch it.” The trickster snapped at him, voice sharp and dangerous in a way that usually spelled trouble. “That’s my kid in there you’re talking about. Not just yours – mine too. I think I’ve got just as much right to be here as you do.” 

“Why? It’s not _your_ body. Donating sperm doesn’t make you a parent. I’m certainly not holding you accountable for it. So why don’t you just go back to whatever you were doing before.” _Before I let myself hope too much. Before I let myself_ feel _too much._   

“Who says I’m leaving?” 

“It’s what you do, right?” 

He didn’t look over at him, not wanting to see whatever look would be on Gabriel’s face. The silence stretched out for a moment before the trickster let out a low whistle. “Wow, Gigantor. Don’t pull any punches there. Tell me how you really feel.” There was a sharp, almost bitter edge to his words that had Sam wanting to flinch. 

Just barely did he resist the urge. When he made the mistake of turning his head, of letting himself actually _look_ at Gabriel, the harder edge of his temper waned away. He’d studied the trickster plenty of times over the years and he could see the hint of something hidden underneath the mask. The hurt that he’d always felt Gabriel kept tucked away. Even back when he’d thought him simply Loki, he’d always felt that there was a wealth of hurt hiding underneath things. Glimpsing it now made it almost impossible to hold onto his anger. Sam deflated ever so slightly and his shoulders dropped as he sighed. Bringing up his free hand, he pinched the bridge of his nose. This wasn’t Gabriel’s fault. Sam was angry, yes, but it wasn’t fair to be angry with him. Neither one of them had asked for this. 

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Sam forced himself to say “I’m sorry.” Gabriel looked surprised at the apology. More so when Sam looked up and continued on to say “I’m angry, but it’s not fair to take it out on you. I haven’t adjusted to this yet. I wasn’t ready to bring anyone else into the mix. I just… I find out I’m pregnant by some sort of divine intervention and it’s not, I didn’t ask for this, I didn’t want to be even more of a freak, but I’m stuck with it. And I’m so damn tired of being a stupid pawn pushed this way and that. Maybe it was stupid and maybe it was selfish, but the decision to tell you was _mine_ , and I was going to make it when I was ready, not someone else.” Pausing, he huffed and shook his head, looking back down at his lap. “Apparently I don’t even get that.” 

He couldn’t bring himself to look back up, but he didn’t really have to. The temper was sort of draining out of the air around them and it was a palpable thing. 

He listened as Gabriel blew out a breath he didn’t need. “I’m sorry too, Sam.” 

The apology as well as the use of his name was enough to startle Sam into looking up. He found Gabriel looking unusually serious. Amber eyes flashed just a bit darker and there was something old and a bit sad in that look.  

Gabriel sighed again. “I don’t know what Dad’s thinking here or what He has planned, but I’m sorry you got yanked into it without being asked. You’ve been jerked around by family more than anyone I know. I wish I could tell you I knew what He wanted with this, but I don’t. All I know is that it’s here and it’s something we’ve got to deal with, whether we like it or not. It’ll go a whole lot easier if we’re not at each other’s throats, though.” 

“Yeah.” Sam agreed quietly. 

“Besides, I’m sure I’ll get plenty enough of that from your brother.” 

A weak chuckle slipped free. Yeah, that was pretty much guaranteed. Dean had showed a hell of a lot of restraint so far on the subject of Gabriel. That probably wouldn’t hold out once the two were face to face.  

There was the soft sound of movement and Sam suddenly found Gabriel kneeling down in front of him. The eyes that met his were gentler than he’d ever seen them and there was something in them that made his throat clench tight. Inside, the little ball of sensation that he was starting to realize was the growing grace gave a happy little quiver. 

Gabriel’s touch was almost tender as he reached out and pushed a bit of hair back from Sam’s face. “It’ll be okay, Sammy.” He murmured. “We’ll make this work. I’ll take care of you – the both of you.” 

They were words that Sam wanted to hear so very much. Yet they struck the part of him that wanted so much more than this, that ached for something more from the being that he had grown to care so very much about. It was like a taunting glimpse of what he actually wanted and, oh God, it _hurt_. It hurt to have it right there in front of him and know that it wasn’t there because of _him_. It was only there because of the child that was growing inside of him. A tremor ran down Sam and he couldn’t stop the low “Don’t” that slipped past his lips. 

In front of him, Gabriel froze, head tilted in confusion. “Sammy?” 

“Please don’t.” Sam said, voice lower than ever before. He squeezed his eyes shut and cursed the stupid hormones his body shouldn’t ever have had to go through. “I won’t cut you out, Gabriel, I promise. But please just… I can’t, okay? I can’t. Don’t make this something it isn’t. Please.” He couldn’t pretend, not for this. He couldn’t handle having something dangled in front of him that he so desperately wanted, given to him for all the wrong reasons. 

With his eyes closed he couldn’t see the expression that was on Gabriel’s face and that was exactly what he wanted. He waited there, eyes shut, as the silence grew thick. Then he heard the soft sound of cloth moving as Gabriel drew himself back. “Okay, Sammy.” 

When he looked up again, Gabriel was back by the sink, his expression guarded. None of that strange softness was there anymore. Sam was equal parts grateful and saddened. _He’s not yours._ _He’s not and he never will be. Just take what you can get and be happy for it. You did it before, you can do it now. If not for you then for the…for the baby._  

Sam resolved to do just that. For this child, he could put aside his own feelings. He could do the right thing.  

Even if it killed him. 

His legs shook a little as he pushed himself up to his feet. There was only a second of hesitation where he wasn’t quite sure they’d hold him. Somehow, they managed. When he was sure he wasn’t going to sink back down he squared his shoulders and drew in a steadying breath. “Let’s go let everyone know you’re here.” 

The mask of the trickster slipped into place and Sam was sad to see it there. “Lead on, kiddo.” 

What had he gotten himself into? 

* * *

Bringing Gabriel downstairs went just about as well as Sam expected. Apparently hearing about his brother’s love affair with the trickster was one thing – actually being faced with said trickster was another. The minute Dean caught sight of Gabriel he was pushing up off the couch with a loud “Son of a bitch!” that was followed almost immediately by “Get the hell away from my brother, dickbag!” 

Gabriel, of course, met it all with a wide grin and a cheesy little wiggle of his eyebrows. “Hey there, Deano! Good to see you too!” 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Dean demanded.  

A sigh slipped from Sam and his shoulders slumped down a little as he pushed past the two posturing idiots. “Cas told him.” He said flatly. Despite the fact that he’d worked things out with Gabriel, he wasn’t any happier with the other angel. 

He heard a furious sounding growl behind him and knew that Dean wasn’t all that happy either. The last time he'd heard something like that from his brother, he'd found the scratch Sam had accidentally managed to put on his car. Sam was sure that Dean agreed with Castiel that Gabriel needed to know, but he also knew that his brother had for once been respecting his decision. Whether it was because he trusted Sam – not likely – or because he just didn’t want to deal with Gabriel – much more likely – he’d still been respecting it. He wouldn’t be happy that Castiel hadn’t. 

Sam found Bobby in the kitchen making coffee. The smell of it was delicious but he’d already discovered days ago that his stomach didn’t appreciate it. Not to mention he knew that caffeine wasn’t the best idea right now. It was one of the few things he could remember hearing Jess and her friends talk about when a girl they'd known at Stanford had gotten pregnant. Sam made a mental note to grab his laptop tonight and remedy just how _little_ he knew about pregnancy. 

A second after he sat down at the table, a snap sounded in the kitchen and a plate of fruit and yogurt appeared in front of him. Sam only hesitated for a second before he reached out and picked up a grape to pop into his mouth. Even if he threw it up in a little while it was better than having nothing at all in his stomach. Behind him, he heard Dean’s stomping footsteps, telling him his brother was stalking over towards him. “What do you mean, Cas told him?” 

“I’d think it’s pretty self-explanatory.” Sam said, voice flat. 

There was a soft snort of amusement that he doubted he was supposed to have heard. He knew who it came from, though. For some reason Gabriel had always liked it when Sam’s snarky side showed through. Spunk, he called it. _‘I like em with spunk, Sama-lama._ ’ Though he didn’t hear Gabriel come closer, he _felt_ it like some sort of buzz of energy at the edge of his mind that he'd noticed he got around angels. It was something that had been happening more and more frequently with their exposure to angels. He wasn't sure if it was something left from the demon blood he'd been drinking – back then, he'd been able to sense demons easily. Could it cause him to sense angels, too? He didn't think that was the sort of question he could actually ask an angel. Bringing up the demon blood probably wasn't the smartest of ideas. 

When the archangel dropped down into the chair nearest Sam, the hunter didn't look up right away, contemplating simply ignoring him. In the end he decided that it wouldn’t be worth it. Gabriel wasn't the type to respond well to being ignored. Sam imagined he had rather creative ways to get people to pay attention to him. When Sam finally did look up, he found Gabriel leaning forward with his arms crossed on the tabletop and his most annoying smirk directed towards both Dean and Bobby. “You know, a boy could almost get the impression you guys don’t want him here.” 

“Gee, what was your first clue?” Bobby asked. There was a dryness to his voice, yet underneath it Sam heard the resignation, like he realized that no amount of protesting was going to do him any good whatsoever. 

Dean, on the other hand, seemed to be letting the fear and temper that he’d been suppressing about all of this so far finally take over. Gabriel was just the lucky one it was going to come pouring out on. “We don’t need you here.” Dean snarled at him. “Cas had no right to go and tell you something Sammy wasn’t ready to say. Just because your Dad apparently decided to play some big cosmic joke and grow some grace inside my brother doesn’t mean that you get the right to come barging in here and taking over.” 

“I’m pretty sure I’ve got just as much right as your brother here, seeing as how that’s a bit of _my_ grace that’s growing and changing in there.” Gabriel’s voice could’ve been considered calm if one didn’t look at the sharpness in his eyes or the casual way in which he held himself. Sam knew from experience that the more casual Gabriel looked, the more relaxed he made himself, the more dangerous he really was. And he could be very dangerous when he set his mind to it. Sam had made the mistake once of assuming that Gabriel was calm about something. They'd been arguing about Mystery Spot and Gabriel had had that same loose limbed sprawl that he did now, the calm look on his face and the sharpness in his eyes that Sam hadn't recognized at the time. He'd quickly learned his mistake when one snarled remark about "Nevermind, I don't know why I even bothered thinking you'd understand" and Sam had found himself pinned up against the wall with an arm across his throat and a furious face right in front of his. Sam could see that same easy demeanor now in Gabriel, and he could see that same look to his eyes, the hint of light that he now knew was barely contained grace. 

“Donating grace don’t make you a Dad any more than donating sperm does.” Dean fired back. 

This could get really bad, really fast, if Sam didn’t step in and do something. He wasn’t all that happy about having Gabriel here either but he’d made his peace somewhat back in the bathroom. The only thing this could do now was cause a big fight that would just be hell to deal with. Sam wasn’t in the mood for it. The higher the anger rose in the room, the more that twisting feeling came back into his stomach. It was a trend he’d started to notice the past few days more and more. In response to it, he carefully set down the watermelon he’d been about to eat. “Dean.” Just one word, said in a steady voice, drew all attention to him. Sam fixed his gaze on his brother and tried to make him understand how serious he was about his next words. “I’ve already talked this out with Gabriel. I’m not…this isn’t perfect, but he’s right. He’s got a right to be here. We’ll just, we’ll make it work somehow.” 

“Oh that’s great, Sam.” Dean blew out a frustrated breath and there was temper bright in his eyes that made Sam flinch, though not as bad as he did at his brother’s next words. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You’ve never had trouble sexing up monsters before. Why not set up and play house with one? You’ll be one happy little monster family, huh?” 

“Dean!” Bobby exclaimed. He looked both stunned and furious. 

No one else got a chance to say anything. Before they could even draw breath, Dean went flying back into the wall, hitting hard and falling down to the ground. He tried to push up only to get knocked back down again. Sam didn’t watch Dean – he turned his gaze to the one he knew was the cause of this. He watched with wide eyes as the furious trickster rose from his chair and stalked towards Dean like a predator that had just captured his prey. His eyes were glowing with power and there was pure fury written on his face. “I’m only going to say this once, Winchester, so I suggest you listen very, very carefully.” He stopped right next to Dean and squatted down, easily holding him down without any outward show of power. It was sort of terrifying. He squatted there beside Dean, arms resting on his knees, fixing him with a sharp glare that Sam had been on the receiving end of once and never wanted to be again. “Whatever else is going on, whatever issues there are between any of us, that man and the child inside of him are my family, and you best remember that before you open your mouth again. Next time I won’t be nearly so kind in my response.” 

The whole room was quiet as Gabriel stared at Dean a moment longer. Then the archangel pushed up to his feet and turned to face Sam without even caring that it put his back to Dean. That casual dismissal was almost as powerful as anything else he’d done. He looked right at Sam as he said “The wards here are good, but not good enough. If you’re insisting on staying here I’m gonna go make sure no one’s getting in here. Shouldn’t take but a minute.” With no more warning than that, he vanished. 

Sam watched as Dean pushed himself up from the ground. He grumbled the whole way, but he found no sympathy once he was on his feet. Sam wasn’t looking at him and Bobby glared. “You got lucky, boy.” The older hunter had no qualms about pointing that out. 

“You can’t tell me you’re cool with him just dropping in, Bobby!” 

“No one’s saying you gotta like him.  But common sense says pissin’ off an archangel aint exactly something we wanna do. Try usin’ that head of yours as more than a place to hold hats!” 

Their bickering sort of washed over Sam. He kept his head turned down and ignored it. There was a part of him that wanted to fight. A year ago, he probably would’ve. A year ago he’d still had that part of him, the part that felt that he was right and that he should fight for what he felt. Life had changed him since then. His own stupidity had changed him. There was no way he was going to fight with his brother now. Not when their relationship still felt so rocky sometimes. Dean still didn’t trust him after the whole Ruby debacle and Sam couldn’t blame him. Not with the mess that had brought about – a mess that they were fighting so hard to try and clean up. Sam didn’t expect forgiveness. He just… he hadn’t expected a direct attack like that. He’d thought they were past the hard, sharp words. 

The food on the table looked nowhere near as appealing as it had before. 

A cup appeared suddenly on the table in front of him. Sam blinked with surprise and then leaned in, giving a small sniff. Honey, peppermint, and… something else. Other scents he wasn’t quite sure of. The smell was amazing, though, and strangely soothing. Sam reached up and curled his hands around the mug and let the heat seep into his fingers. He was pretty sure this was a mug of tea. He was also pretty damn positive he was going to have to demand Gabriel tell him whatever kind it was because even just the scent was enough to calm some of the churning in his stomach and anything that could lessen this nausea was a Godsend right about now. 

_Thank you, Loki_ , he thought warmly. It was habit to address the being as Loki, not to mention he had no idea just how open the airwaves were when it came to actual prayers and he didn’t want to go around blasting out Gabriel’s name without knowing if it was going to get him in trouble. 

He felt warmth press against his mind and he could’ve sworn he heard a very familiar chuckle. 

“Sam.” 

Bobby’s voice broke through Sam’s thoughts and he jerked his head up to find both Bobby and Dean staring at him. Apparently he’d missed something. “I’m sorry.” Sam apologized immediately. It felt like he was always apologizing for something these days. “I was just...” He looked down at the cup he still held and then back up at them and just sort of shrugged, not quite sure how to explain that he’d been moping inside of his own head. 

Luckily, his family knew him rather well and they didn’t seem to need his explanation to get what was going on. Dean’s expression tightened a little and something in Bobby’s shifted towards that sad look that Sam really hated to see there. They didn’t push, though. That would mean a talk about ‘feelings’ and that just wasn’t something that happened in this house. Not unless someone was dying. 

Not that the topic they chose instead was all that better of one. 

“Pay attention for a bit, Samantha.” Dean said, lips twitching in amusement a name that had yet to lose its humor for him. “We’re trying to figure out what to do here. We’ve had our heads buried in the sand long enough. It’s time we start figuring things out.” 

“We don’t really seem to have a lot of options.” Sam pointed out. He sat back in his chair and brought the cup with him, bringing it up to his face so he could breathe in the steam and take his first sip. A happy hum slipped from him at the delicious flavor with just that hint of sweetness to it. Even better, it didn’t seem to bother his stomach at all, where most things anymore did. 

Bobby wheeled himself up to the table right across from Sam, accepting the mug that Dean put in front of him. “Lucifer aint gonna stop looking for you, boy. An something tells me he aint gonna be happy once he finds out what’s going on.” 

The idea of Lucifer finding him like this and whatever reaction he might give was enough to make Sam’s stomach flip. He dropped a hand from his mug and let it press against his still flat stomach. Anything that got in Lucifer’s way was at risk of being taken out - the archangel had showed that more than once. What would he do to a tiny little child inside of Sam? 

The idea made Sam sick and he had to set his mug down before he dropped it. His family noticed his reaction. Bobby gave him a sympathetic look, but Dean stepped over from where he’d been pouring coffee and he reached out to clasp his hand over Sam’s shoulder, giving a firm squeeze. “We’ll figure it out, Sammy. He’s not gonna get to you.” 

“Your brother’s right.” Gabriel’s voice chimed in. He didn’t just snap in this time; he came strolling in from the direction of the front door. His gaze was fixed right on Sam and there was threat and power both in his eyes that was oddly soothing. “We’ll figure it out. And I won’t let my brother anywhere near you or our kid. I’ve got this whole property warded like crazy. He won’t be able to get in here – I doubt if he can even sense you here, kiddo.” Gabriel came up and joined Sam at the table, snapping up a chair beside him and dropping down into it. He sort of sprawled out in the chair like some giant, lazy cat, a relaxed demeanor with this hidden lethality, packaged to look cute until you pissed it off. Pulling a package of M&M’s from his pocket, he tore open one corner and poured a few into his hand, tossing them into his mouth one by one. He was the perfect image of lazy and bored, yet Sam knew better. He knew what was hidden underneath all that. It showed in just a bit of the flash in his eyes when he told Sam “I won’t let him get you, Sam.” 

The lack of a nickname showed just how serious he was. Sam had a moment where he allowed himself to be grateful about it, to smile and nod at the trickster in appreciation and thanks. Then he drew back and curled in on himself a little. He’d said he’d be friendly. That didn’t mean that he could let himself lean. It’d be too easy to start wishing for more and he’d resigned himself a long time ago to the fact that he wasn’t going to get that. 

“Maybe that’s why your Daddy did this.” Bobby said suddenly, startling them. 

It didn’t look like it, but Sam could see that Gabriel had gone tense, his entire being focused on Bobby. “What do you mean, Singer?” 

“Well, from the looks of it you’ve been sorta sticking to the sidelines in this.” Bobby said. 

Dean snorted and mumbled “’Cept when he’s screwing with _us_.” 

Everyone ignored him, paying attention to Bobby as the older hunter continued. “Maybe this is His way of making you pick a side.” 

This time it was Gabriel who snorted. “Yeah, that sounds like Dad.” 

In his seat, Sam went very still. His hands curled into fists in his lap and his eyes turned down towards his lap in an attempt to keep them from seeing the emotion in them. “You mean to tell me…” He paused and cleared his throat, trying to chase away the lump of emotion that had built there. “You seriously believe that God made me pregnant – _pregnant_ – as a way to force Gabe to choose sides in this?” Yet again someone did something with his body, _changed it_ , so that once again it could become something useful for someone else, for yet another _archangel_. He’d been fed demon blood as a child, then pushed and prodded and shoved along a trail that led him to Ruby, to more demon blood, all to change him and prepare him and make him ready to be Lucifer’s vessel, because in the eyes of the angels that was the only use the Abomination had for them. Now again, _again_ , his body had been messed with, this time changed around to carry some angelic child, and they thought it was because God wanted to use him as a motivation to get Gabriel off the sidelines and into the game? 

This was too much. It was just too damn much. Was he even his own person anymore? Was his body even his anymore? Or was he just meant to be some vessel at the use of someone or something else for the rest of his life? 

He needed to get out of here. 

Sam pushed himself up from the table. “I’m going to do some research.” 

“You can’t keep running away from this, Sammy.” Dean cut in. “We gotta talk about this. You can’t keep running out when the conversation gets hard and then hide out somewhere and pretend this doesn’t exist. We’ve gotta find a way to deal with this.” 

Sam stopped in the doorway and didn’t bother turning around. “There are some things I still have control over in my life.” He may not have had control over anything else, but he did over this. And he used that control to walk out of the room and back upstairs.  



	4. Chapter 4

Sam didn’t really expect to be left alone for long. Not only did he not picture Gabriel wanting to stay downstairs with the others, he couldn’t see Dean letting him just escape, at least not for long. His brother understood him better than anyone and he knew that sometimes Sam just needed a moment to process things. But he wasn’t the type to just let something lie. He’d have to come find him, to push, so he could get the answers that he wanted. Right now Sam just didn’t have any of those answers for him. 

It only took ten minutes before there was a knock at Sam’s bedroom door. His room was where he’d retreated to, with the books he’d stashed in here earlier. The knock had him sure that it was Dean who was coming. So when he called out “Come in!” he was surprised to find that it was Gabriel who came walking in instead. The trickster must’ve seen Sam’s surprised look. He smiled at it and shut the door behind him. “I left them down there arguing and figured I’d come find you.” 

“The fact that I left the room didn’t clue any of you in to the fact that I might want to be alone right now?” 

If his words struck Gabriel, he didn’t show it. His expression stayed calm and just a bit amused, one corner of his mouth quirked up. “Nope. I’m sure you’ve got a ton of questions you probably don’t wanna ask in front of the goon squad. Thought this might be easier.” 

It would be easier to ask Gabriel any of the questions he had – and boy, did he have plenty – away from everyone else. At the same time he really wasn’t all that sure that he wanted to be shut alone in a bedroom with him.  

Apparently being alone right now was out of the picture. Placing a marker in his book, Sam folded the book and set it on his lap. He sat up a little straighter on the bed before making a gesture towards Gabriel to let him know to get comfortable. He really should’ve figured how the archangel would do that. Without hesitation, Gabriel sat down at the foot of the bed and drew his legs up crisscross in front of him. “Right!” he said, clapping his hands in front of him. “So, I’m betting you’ve probably got questions about what to expect.” 

“You think?” Sam’s tone was flat and just a bit dry. 

Gabriel flashed a grin at him. “Smart ass.” He said it sort of fondly, though. “The first thing you gotta realize is that there’s no real history of this. Angels can’t get pregnant. That’s not exactly something Dad equipped us for. Each fledgling He made was just that – made by Him. But that baby in there is gonna be pretty much straight angel. Pure grace, molded by a human soul. That’s gonna kind of make things interesting. The best reference we’ve got is the nephilim pregnancies. They carried half angels, so they’re our closest bet to what to expect.” 

Wow, didn’t that just all sound reassuring? Sam curled his hand around the edge of the book and tried not to let his fear show too much. “Is it that different from a regular pregnancy?” 

“Yes and no.” 

“Reassuring.” 

Shrugging his shoulders, the archangel spread his hands out in a conciliatory gesture. “It’s the best we’ve got. Better than nothing, right?” He waited for Sam’s nod before continuing. “You’re actually already showing some of the differences. Nephilim pregnancies were always a bit harder in some ways. More of the nausea, the exhaustion. It takes a lot out of a human body to carry grace like that in it. The fact that you’re a vessel meant for an archangel will make it a bit easier on you as things go on, I’d guess. Your body is kind of made to house grace. It just needs a chance to adjust.” 

“That’s not as reassuring as you think it is.” Sam felt compelled to point out. 

That earned him another shrug. “Didn’t really think it was. Just giving you the facts, kiddo.” 

This wasn’t Gabriel’s fault. That was something Sam had to keep reminding himself. This wasn’t his fault. His lips twitched in a reluctant smile as he realized that the saying ‘Don’t shoot the messenger’ kind of took on a whole new meaning for this conversation. Pushing that back, he tried to focus on the important things, all the questions that had been rolling around inside of his head ever since Castiel had dropped his bombshell on them. “Is this…are nephilim pregnancies nine months like human pregnancies are?” 

“Ten months.” Gabriel corrected him. “Human pregnancies are ten months, actually. And sometimes, yes. They’re not as structured as a regular pregnancy. It seemed to be anywhere from seven to ten months depending on how well the grace grows. Exposure to their parent’s grace seems to help speed that process along.” 

“What kind of exposure?” 

Gabriel lifted one hand from his lap and held it out towards Sam. He paused with it right in front of him, looking up at Sam with an eyebrow raised in an expectant expression. There was a moment where Sam wasn’t quite sure what to do. He finally settled on nodding. He’d agreed to let Gabriel be a part of this; he couldn’t back out now. 

The archangel moved forward a little on the bed so he could easily reach in and lay his hand flat against Sam’s stomach. The touch sent a chill through him that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. Then Sam felt the first touch of Gabriel’s grace reaching out. To his shock, he didn’t react the way he had when Castiel had tried to touch him with grace. There was no fear, no panic, no need to get as far away as possible. Instead there was a happy buzz somewhere inside of him and Sam swore he felt his whole stomach grow warm from the inside out. It was like Gabriel was reaching into him and a part of Sam was reaching back. Every bit of tension drained out of Sam’s body and the nausea that he’d been feeling still was gone in an instant. His body slumped and he might’ve slid down towards the mattress if Gabriel’s other hand hadn’t caught and steadied him. “Woah there, handsome.” 

The grace inside of him drew back and Sam fought the urge to stop him and beg him to stay. When it was gone, he felt slightly empty, yet there was a strange sensation of peace inside of him. “That was…” 

“Awesome?” Gabriel grinned cheekily at him. 

Was it Sam’s imagination, or did the archangel seem just as hesitant to let go of him? Did his hands linger just a bit longer than normal before he pulled away? 

He brushed off those thoughts as wishful thinking. Shaking his head, he tried to smile even though it felt a little flat at the edges. “Not exactly the word I was thinking of. What was that?” 

“That was my grace connecting with the grace inside you. They’re doing good, by the way.” He added the last part casually, but the twinkle in his eye gave him away. “I’d put you at about eight weeks, give or take a day. Everything seems to be growing just fine, too.” 

One word caught for Sam and he felt his eyes widen in stunned surprise. “They’re. You said _they’re_.” 

The twinkle in Gabriel’s eyes grew wider. “I did.” 

Son of a bitch. Sam’s mouth dropped open slightly before he snapped it back shut with a loud clack of teeth. It took him a moment to make his throat work. “How many?” How many children were inside of him? How many _angels_? 

“Relax, handsome.” Gabriel sat back like he’d been before, relaxing comfortably on the foot of the bed. For all intents and purposes he looked perfectly at ease. “I can’t be positive yet, what with the grace being so young, but I’m almost sure it’s split into two. That was pretty common with the nephilim.” 

The shocks just kept coming and coming. Sam’s hands clenched over the book he still held and he couldn’t quite seem to draw in breath. How much more was going to be thrown his way? How much was he going to be asked to deal with? Not only was he pregnant – the grace had apparently split to make twins. _Twins_. Sam closed his eyes and tried to force air into his lungs. He bit his lip hard enough that the metallic taste of blood dripped into his mouth. It was the only way he could keep the words locked inside that were aching to scream out of him. 

With his eyes closed he couldn’t see the look on Gabriel’s face. The tone to his voice, however, was low and gentle when he spoke again. “You’re going to be fine, Sammy. I know this is’t exactly ideal but we’ll deal with it.” 

“Not ideal?” Sam couldn’t stop those words from tearing their way out of him. His eyes snapped open and he ran his tongue over his lip to clean up the blood there. The taste of it was far too familiar for his own peace of mind and only served to remind him why this whole thing was a spectacularly _bad idea_. “Was your Dad even _thinking_ when He did this? Didn’t He realize who exactly he was doing this to? We’re in the middle of the apocalypse – one that He’s not bothering to help with! – and he chooses _me_ of all people to knock up with not just one angel baby, but _two_! If He’s doing it to help, He’s an even bigger idiot than we realized!” 

The blasphemy slipped from his lips before he could stop it. Immediately he winced. Insulting God wasn’t exactly the smartest thing, especially not in front of His Messenger. 

It wasn’t the blasphemy that Gabriel focused on, though. It was the rest of it. His eyes narrowed and the smile slipped off his face. “What’s wrong with you?” 

“What’s wrong…?” Sam trailed off, unable to believe that Gabriel would even ask that. “Are you serious? What, you think I don’t know what angels think of me? If God wanted to guarantee my death there were a lot quicker ways to go about it!” 

Power, blindingly bright and yet with a hint of something dark at the edges, flashed through Gabriel’s eyes. His body tensed and he leaned towards Sam. Some of that power showed in his voice and sharpened his words into something that made Sam’s ears ring. “No one is going to lay a hand on you, Sam Winchester. I won’t let them!” 

“You can’t be with me twenty-four-seven.” Sam shot back. All the fears that he’d been trying to suppress, the fears that clawed at him in the middle of the night when he was tossing and turning and trying to chase down sleep that seemed to want to evade him, they came bubbling to the surface now and he couldn’t keep them inside. “Do you really think any angel is going to be okay with an abomination carrying an angel child, even if it was created by God? Any child I have is going to be tainted by association to me.” _If they’re not tainted already just by being part mine._ “And what do you think it’ll mean for the future, huh? Even if by some miracle we manage to get through this pregnancy safely without Michael or Lucifer or any other angel killing us, what’s it going to be like for them to grow up? They’re gonna be angels! You really think Heaven’s going to want kids that carry whatever taint I pass on to them?” 

The power in Gabriel’s eyes grew even brighter and he let out a snarl that was almost feral sounding. Sam jerked back against the head of the bed when he suddenly found the archangel right up in his face. Firm hands gripped in his shirt and held him close as Gabriel leaned down until his face was just inches from Sam. “I swear to Dad, if I could I’d find everyone who ever made you think about yourself like this and I’d _smite_ them. You are amazing, Sam Winchester, and to hell with anyone that doesn’t think so.” Then he was yanking Sam in and the kiss was hot and demanding, a fierce thing that left Sam unable to do anything but grab onto Gabriel’s hips and go along for the ride. Gabriel’s tongue pressed against his lips and swept into his mouth as if he could chase away the self-loathing words that Sam had been speaking. 

The kiss didn’t break until Sam was starving for air. Even then, he only pulled back far enough to allow Sam to start to suck in a few shaky breaths. Their eyes locked and Sam found himself unable to look away. There was heat in Gabriel’s gaze, making his eyes a melted honey that Sam had always loved to lose himself in, and the hunter could feel himself falling more and more for the being that he already knew he stood absolutely no chance with. Gabriel might want him in his bed, and he might want to protect these children, but Sam was under no illusions that Gabriel could ever actually want _him_. Not in any sense that wasn’t sexual. 

He watched a little furrow build between Gabriel’s eyebrows. The archangel’s lips parted, like he was about to say something, and Sam held his breath and tried to brace himself for whatever it was he was going to say. 

The sound of the door opening cut off whatever might’ve happened next. Sam heard his brother’s low curse, followed by a sharp “Get the hell off my brother!” 

In the next second the weight was gone from Sam’s lap as Gabriel vanished out of the room without a snap or even that rustle of feathers that usually followed Castiel’s arrival or his leaving. Sam was left sitting there with an erection that was thankfully hidden by the book that was somehow still in his lap, and a stunned look on his face. 

“Dude…” Dean started to say, only to get cut off by a sharp look from Sam, what he knew his brother called one of his ‘bitchfaces’, and a harsh “Don’t.” 

“Sam,” 

“Just _don’t_.” Sam curled empty hands and told himself that he very much did not miss the feel of Gabriel in them. He laid them over the book instead and held on to the edge of it with a grip so tight it turned his knuckles white. “Was there something you needed?” If his words were a little rougher than normal, he couldn’t quite bring himself to care. Too much was racing through his mind for him to worry about offending his brother. Dean had been annoyed with him in one form or another since, well, since before he went to Hell. What did one more thing matter? Sam had too much else to worry about. The child – _children –_ inside of him and their annoying father that he found himself caring more and more for with every passing day and who he knew he never had a chance with. Right now he wasn’t sure what part of all that scared him more. 

Dean watched him carefully with a hooded expression that Sam was a little too familiar with. The drawn down eyebrows and the flat set to his mouth spelled out the worry that his older brother felt. Finally, after a long moment during which the two just stared at one another, Dean finally spoke again in a voice much lower and gentler than Sam had anticipated. “What’re you doing, Sammy?” 

A laugh bubbled up Sam’s throat. It sounded harsh and almost bitter. “I have absolutely no idea.” 

* * *

When Sam saw Gabriel again the next morning he wasn’t sure if he was more grateful or annoyed that nothing about their kiss was brought up. He came downstairs to find Gabriel sitting at the kitchen table with his feet kicked up to rest on the corner of it and a big mug of what smelled like hot chocolate in his hands. There was another mug on the table near him, as well as a bowl of what looked like…oatmeal? The curiosity must’ve shown on Sam’s face because Gabriel grinned at him. “Singer was in here a bit ago and he said this would probably go down best.” 

The idea of eating seemed like a good one, in theory. Sam just wasn’t entirely sure how it would pan out in practice. He was getting tired of throwing up. Still, he had to try. If it were just him then he wouldn’t really bother with it. But it wasn’t only him that he was feeding and that reminder was enough motivation to have him moving towards the table. It felt sort of awkward to join him there. There was an air of domesticity that he didn’t associate with the trickster at all. Sam was glad he’d already been up for a bit and had showered and dressed. At least he hadn’t come down in sweats like he’d almost done earlier. It was much easier to sit down next to Gabriel with actual jeans and his layers of shirts to act as a flimsy sort of shield, a way of distancing himself. 

When Sam sat down and hesitantly picked up the spoon, Gabriel chuckled. “I promise it’s not poisoned.” He paused and then added, rather cheekily, “I like to think I’m more creative than that.” 

Sam’s lips twitched before he got it under control. “True.” Creative was the nicest of words he’d use to describe Gabriel’s particular brand of pranks and torture. 

The first bite went down easily and Sam waited a second to make sure it would settle before he spooned up the next bite. It didn’t strike him as odd to be eating food that he couldn’t quite be sure if Bobby had made or if Gabriel had just snapped up after Bobby let him know what Sam would like. However, what did strike him as odd, and slightly uncomfortable, was the fact Gabriel was there at all, and he was seemingly content to silently sit and watch Sam eat. Sam tolerated it for a few bites before he couldn’t just sit quietly anymore. He set down his spoon and turned himself in his chair just enough to be able to look at the archangel’s face. Gabriel met his gaze easily, one eyebrow up as if to ask ‘What?’ 

Biting his bottom lip, Sam tried to think of how to word this without coming out sounding like a jackass. It only took him a second to realize there was no polite way to ask what he wanted to. Instead, he started off with a sort of half-apology. “So, um, not to sound rude…” 

“As if that’s ever stopped you before.” Gabriel interjected. 

Sam shot him a glare, which only had Gabriel wiggling his eyebrows. Rolling his eyes, Sam went on as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “I was just wondering… what exactly are you doing here?” 

His words didn’t seem to surprise Gabriel. Eyebrows arching high and lips twisted up into a mocking sort of smirk Sam was extremely familiar with, everything about Gabriel’s expression was clearly asking him if he was an idiot. “Cas is off in his fruitless search for Daddy, so I volunteered to take a shift watching over you bozos. I can’t exactly look out for you if I’m not around.” There was a silent ‘duh’ attached to the end that was easy to pick up on. 

“I thought you warded the property yesterday?” 

“Well, yeah. But that only goes so far. I know my brothers, handsome, and they’re not the type to be put off easily. _Especially_ Luci.” A corner of Gabriel’s mouth twisted up in a pained excuse for a smirk. “Once he figures out you’re sheltered here, he’s not exactly going to take it lying down. He never was one for sharing his toys.” 

The phrasing in that had Sam wincing and dropping his gaze back down to his bowl. He wasn’t some _toy_ for an archangel. He wasn’t a possession to be picked up and played. _Are you sure about that?_ _Azazel, Ruby, Lucifer, God. You’ve pretty much been passed from one set of hands to the next_. The thought left him feeling slightly sick. With a hand that only shook a little, Sam pushed the bowl away from him, not quite sure he could manage to eat anymore. A sick feeling was in his stomach that, for once, had absolutely nothing to do with the pregnancy. 

Once more Dean showed his amazing sense of timing. The sound of his footsteps on the stairs warned of his arrival and Sam and Gabriel both looked up to watch as the hunter made his way into the kitchen. To his credit, Dean only stumbled slightly when he saw Gabriel. His eyes narrowed for just a moment and his features tightened before he smoothed them back out. Sam watched, stunned, as Dean not only didn’t start yelling at the trickster, he actually _greeted_ him in a way that could’ve almost been considered polite! “Morning Sam. Gabe.” 

Sam wasn’t the only one surprised by it. When he looked over, he saw Gabriel’s surprise and watched as it changed quickly, eyes narrowing in suspicion. Still, his words held that same ‘almost polite’ edge that Dean’s did. “Morning, Deano. Sleep well?” 

“Peachy.” 

Watching them only set Sam more on edge. It was startling to realize that he would’ve been a bit more comfortable if they’d been snapping at one another. What did that say about him? Then again, their forced politeness left him feeling like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. These two had never been what one would consider friendly and recent events should’ve only put them more on edge with one another. Seeing Dean attempt to be polite, and Gabriel attempting the same thing, was unsettling. 

As Dean went to go help himself to some coffee, Gabriel leaned forward just enough to be able to nudge the mug on the table towards Sam. When it got close, the same scent he’d smelled yesterday drifted up to him and he realized that it was another cup of that odd tea that Gabriel had given him yesterday. It smelled just as good now as it did then. “Drink up, kiddo.” Gabriel smiled at him without the edge that had been there while talking to Dean. “It’ll help calm your stomach.” 

“Maybe then you’ll actually eat something.” Dean said, not even glancing over his shoulder at them. 

Sam reached out a bit hesitantly and curled both his hands around the mug. It had worked yesterday. Granted, the sick feeling he had right now wasn’t pregnancy related. Even Dean’s arrival and strange behavior hadn’t been enough to chase away the sick feeling that Sam’s thoughts had brought. But hopefully the drink would still work just as well. He lifted the mug and sat back in his seat in an effort to take some of the pressure off his stomach. “What is this?” 

“A little blend I got from Freya a long time ago.” Gabriel said. That had Sam’s eyebrows shooting up with surprise. Seeing the look made Gabriel chuckle. “What? You’re not the first pregnant person I’ve been around, Sammy boy. I know a trick or two.” 

Snorting, Dean turned around to join them, bringing his coffee over to the table. “Somehow I’m not surprised.” 

His mocking remark didn’t bother Gabriel in the least. If anything, his grin grew. “Been reading up on my mythology, bucko?” 

It took a second for that to sink in. When it did, Sam’s eyes widened. He hadn’t ever really thought about the mythology behind Loki before. Gabriel, yes, but not his counterpart. The scholar in him perked up a little at this bit of information. “So wait, those stories about Loki are actually true?” 

“Mm.” Gabriel took a drink off of his hot chocolate and Sam very deliberately did not pay attention to the way he licked some of the chocolate off his upper lip afterwards. “Some of it. Not all. There’s a lot that got lost or changed over the years, or that were put out just for fun. But the kids? Yeah. I’ve got a few out there.” Something slipped into his expression that Sam could only label as _pride_. 

“Wait a second.” Dean sat up a little straighter in his chair. “You’ve got kids? Like, actual kids? Isn’t that illegal for your kind? Cas said nephilim were outlawed.” 

Gabriel chuckled again and answered him before Sam could turn to ask when exactly Dean and Castiel had gotten around to talking about nephilim of all things. “Nephilim are kids born of an angel dad and a human mom. I’ve never had a kid with a human before.” 

“You mean to tell me there’re mini versions of you running around this world?” Dean shuddered even as he said it. 

“Only sometimes." Gabriel said it as if that would be reassuring. The way he kept smirking at them and the relaxed lines of his body showed just how amused he was by this whole conversation. "Mostly they stick to their own places. Fen doesn't much like being around people – he prefers the forests. An Jorgy likes staying in the sea. Hel never comes up from Helheim. She prefers it down there and it's not really easy to leave, anyways.”  He shrugged like it wasn’t any real big deal. “I go visit her when I can. You’d like her, Sammy. She’s a bright one. Point is, though, I’ve been around the block with the pregnancy thing an I’ve got a thing or two that might help. That tea right there being one of them.” 

There were so many questions that Sam wanted to ask. It shouldn’t surprise him to find out that some of the very things he’d read about over the years were real. Considering their line of work, it was stupid to believe that things _weren’t_ real. Yet hearing that Loki’s children actually existed, that he was talking to their _father_ , it was definitely something he wanted to know more about. His scholarly excitement was cut off by a snort from Dean. “I know that look, Sammy. Geek out with your baby daddy later. We’ve got more important things to discuss right now than how little Gabe can keep it in his pants.” 

“ _Dean_!” Sam couldn’t believe his brother. Had he learned nothing about pissing off Gabriel? 

Apparently Sam needn’t have worried. Gabriel just winked and drawled out “Oh, bucko, you’ve got _no_ idea” in the most lascivious way possible. 

“Yeah, and I don’t wanna know.” Dean shot back. “Like I said, we got more important things to discuss.  That is, if you’re really sticking around to help.” He rested his elbows on the table and lifted his cup so it sat right in front of his mouth while he fixed the trickster with a steady stare. Experience with his brother told Sam it was pretty likely there was more than just coffee in that mug. He didn’t comment on it, though. Bringing up Dean’s drinking was never a good idea if he wanted to avoid a fight with his brother. 

Gabriel met Dean stare for stare and it felt like the temperature of the room cooled a few degrees. The archangel’s tone showed it, just a hint of an icy edge to his words. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

Whatever Dean saw in Gabriel’s stare must’ve satisfied him. He gave a firm nod. “Good.” 

The fact that they were basically talking over top of Sam’s head was starting to grate a little. His hands tightened briefly on his mug in an attempt to keep his temper under control. “If you two are done, you think we could actually get around to discussing things?” Lifting one eyebrow, Sam looked back and forth between the two. “Or would you like me to give you a little bit first?” 

Gabriel settled back into his chair without any signs that he’d just been silently facing off with the older Winchester. Dean, however, turned to look at Sam. “Someone’s feeling testy this morning.” He said, and then shrugged. “I’d blame it on pregnancy hormones, but you’ve always been a bit of a bitch.” 

“Jerk.” Sam replied automatically. It was the natural response any time Dean called him that, yet in that moment Sam realized just how long it’d been since he’d heard that term used towards him. He smiled, a small, hesitant thing, and was rewarded with the kind of honest smile he rarely got to see anymore on his brother. 

A fake sniff from Gabriel reminded them of their audience. They looked over to find the archangel pretending to wipe away a fake tear. “You two are so sweet!” 

“Bite me.” Sam and Dean said together. 

The tension between Dean and Gabriel wasn’t completely gone after that but it was easily pushed to the background as they focused together on a much more important topic. It wasn’t any surprise that what Dean wanted to talk about was their plans for the apocalypse. The only thing was, Sam had no idea what they were going to do about it and he said as much as soon as Dean brought it up. “I don’t know, Dean. I mean, what can we do?” 

“Hiding out here forever aint gonna work.” Dean pointed out. 

No, it wouldn’t. Right now hiding here was great for the short term. It wouldn’t do them for long, though. Michael and Lucifer wouldn’t wait forever. Besides, there were people out there dying right now because of all of this. _Because of me_ , Sam thought. He’d let the devil out of his box and he needed to help put him back in. “What exactly are we supposed to do, though? I can’t hunt like this.” Sam hated to point that out. The idea of sitting around and hiding out wasn’t one that was appealing to him. Not when there was so much out there that he needed to help fix. 

“You’re gonna have to stick to research for a little while.” Gabriel said. He drew in a breath and wiped one hand over his mouth in a very human gesture, as if taking a moment to gather his thoughts. When he spoke again, his words were careful, like he was taking time choosing each one. “I won’t help you kill my brothers, not unless I absolutely have to. No matter what they’ve done, they’re my family, and I don’t want to kill them. Especially the younger ones. They don’t know any better. All they know is what they’re told. But I… I might know a way to lock Luci back in his cage. If we can do that, I should be able to get Mike to back off.” 

Sam and Dean both sat up a little straighter in their seats. Wait a second… “There’s a way to lock Lucifer back up?” Sam asked, his eyes wide with surprise. Beside him, Dean growled out “And you didn’t tell us before this?” 

Apparently Gabriel decided to simply ignore Dean’s remark. He looked straight to Sam. There were none of the usual signs of playfulness on his face that Sam was used to seeing. His expression was sort of blank; that typical angelic look without any human emotion. It was so at odds on Gabriel’s face it left Sam feeling uncomfortable. “I doubt Michael even remembers this, but there are keys to Lucifer’s cage. With them, we can open the cage. We just have to find a way to shove him back inside.” 

“Where are they?” Dean asked, his voice clearly demanding. 

“There are four keys. Well, rings, actually. Four rings.” He held up one hand and wiggled four fingers at them. “From the Horsemen.” 

He obviously expected some sort of reaction from them at those words. Shock, maybe, or protests. It was obvious by the way Gabriel's eyebrows shot up and his eyes went wide that he _hadn't_ expected Sam to exclaim "We already have one!" while Dean went and grabbed War's ring from where they'd been hiding it in Bobby's desk. Dean brought it over and set it down in the middle of the table. 

Gabriel openly gaped at it. Then he lifted his eyes and shook his head at them. "How on earth do you boys do it? You just _happen_ to have War's ring on you?" 

The next few minutes were spent walking him through the case where they'd run across War and explaining how they'd managed to get his ring in the end. When they were done, Gabriel was shaking his head again. "You have got to be the two luckiest sons-of-bitches I have ever met." He said. When they both shot him instant glares – how could he seriously consider them _lucky_ after everything that had happened to them? - he waved his hand in the air as if to dismiss all the crap in their past. "I know, I know, just as much bad luck as good. But, still. This gives us a start! We can hunt down Famine and Pestilence, cut off their rings too, an I'm sure Death won't mind loaning us his. I heard big bro brought him up an bound him. He's probably itching to find a way to break those binds and locking Luci up would do that." A smile stretched Gabriel's lips and he curled his hand around the ring. "We might actually have a plan, boys!" 

Saying it was a whole lot easier than doing it, Sam knew. There was so much that could go wrong with their plan and so many things that they had to figure out to even begin to put the plan into action. Countless things could go wrong along the way. But, for the first time since this whole mess started, they actually had a real plan. One that, with an archangel of their own at their side, might work. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments are like gold! Thank you so much!


	5. Chapter 5

Now that they had a plan, there was a new air that seemed to fill the Singer household. Things didn’t feel quite as hopeless as they had before. They weren’t just aimlessly researching while hoping for the best. They had purpose now. Instead of researching the whole apocalypse, they were researching Horsemen, trying to find everything they could on them in the hopes of being able to track them down. Research had always been something Sam was good at and he threw himself into this with a zeal that probably wasn’t entirely healthy. If it wasn’t for _everyone_ taking it on themselves to make sure that he took breaks to eat and sleep, or his own body simply crashing when he got tired enough, he would’ve run himself into the ground trying to do it all. 

But he had to do _something_. Not being able to go out and hunt and help that way bothered him a lot more than he let himself give voice to. The first time that Dean and Castiel went out to chase down a rumor – and, honestly, to give Dean a bit of a break because he was starting to go stir crazy – Sam had bit his tongue and not said a word at all about how much he hated having to stay behind. The apologetic look Dean had given him as he left said he’d known, though. 

There wasn’t exactly a lot of research that Sam could do into his own personal issues. It wasn’t like there were websites out there for “What to do when God decides to make you pregnant” or anything like that. Still, it didn’t stop him from late night Google searches into pregnancy and what to expect. It was either that or ask Gabriel and, right now, Sam was trying to do just about anything he could to avoid much contact with their resident archangel. 

Avoiding him wasn’t easy. And really, Gabriel wasn’t doing anything wrong that would actually warrant Sam avoiding him. At least, not so far as he would know. 

Sam just hadn’t been prepared for how hard it would be to see the man he loved every single day for two weeks straight – the man who was the father of his _children_ – and not be able to have what he really wanted from them. To have them just look at him as a friend, or as the other parent, and not really as himself. Selfish as it was, Sam didn’t want Gabriel there for the baby or the apocalypse or anything like that. He wanted Gabriel to want to be there for _him_. 

“Idiot.” He scoffed to himself as he sat in the back of one of the many trucks in Bobby’s lot. “Like that’s ever gonna happen.” 

Sam curled himself forward just enough that he could rest his folded arms on his knees. He’d needed to escape out here once Dean and Castiel had left. He’d held it together long enough to pretend to them that it didn’t bother him. This was the second time they’d gone out rumor chasing. But now that they were gone and he was once more stuck here with just Bobby and Gabriel. And it was _killing_ him. 

In all of their times together, Sam had gotten used to how things were with Loki/Gabriel. He was used to laughter and fun, teasing touches and rough ones, playfully falling into bed together and spending hours there as they learned every inch of one another’s bodies. He’d learned how Gabriel’s vessel was ticklish over his ribs and he would laugh until tears slicked his cheeks if you caught him with it just right. Being an angel, he had control over his vessel, but he liked to indulge in sleep and Sam had woken him up once or twice by tickling him. He knew Gabriel could shut it off, keep the touches from tickling, but he never did. Nor did he ever really fight all that hard to get away even though they both knew he could be gone in the snap of his fingers. 

He’d learned that scratching down his back was a quick way to get him so turned on his touches would be rough and his need almost insatiable. He knew what Gabriel’s face looked like when he came while Sam was buried deep inside him, while he was inside Sam, on his fingers, in his mouth, and countless other ways. In almost every way that was sexual, Sam knew the trickster. 

But he hadn’t known this side of him. He hadn’t known the side that would set the table with an array of breakfast foods all chosen to entice Sam into eating. He hadn’t known this gentler side, with the soft look he’d get on his face sometimes when he didn’t realize Sam was looking. Sam had caught him at it just yesterday. The hunter had been curled up on the couch, sipping at the tea that Gabriel kept him constantly supplied with, reading a book that had a small obscure reference to Pestilence in it. Sam had just happened to look up at the right moment and he’d caught sight of Gabriel watching him from across the room, the lines of his face relaxed for once. There’d been no smirk, no ‘trickster’ look to his face. Just a gentle smile and warm eyes. A look that was fond and almost… 

No. Just fond, nothing more. Sam wasn’t going to fool himself into thinking there might be more. Just because he loved Gabriel didn’t mean that the archangel was going to love him. Sam had resigned himself to that a long time ago and he needed to stop hoping and wishing for more. He needed to stop reading too much into things. 

It was just so damn _hard_! It felt like everything he’d ever wanted was just right in front of him! Only, it wasn’t. It was just an illusion. One that hurt more and more each time he saw it. 

That was why he was out here now. Sam sighed and bent down to press his forehead against his folded arms. The position wasn’t all that comfortable but it satisfied the need in him to just curl up and hide. A miserable sound that was half sigh, half whine slipped past his lips. How was he supposed to do this? How on earth was he supposed to deal with all of this? 

A little buzz in his mind had Sam groaning quietly into his arms. It was that sensation that he was getting used to that meant Gabriel was coming closer. Go figure he’d get hunted down. Apparently he couldn’t even get any time alone anymore without someone coming to find him. 

It only took about a half a minute before he could hear Gabriel’s footsteps. Then, much to his annoyance, he heard the archangel let out what sounded like a sigh of relief. “ _There_ you are!” More footsteps as Gabriel came closer to the truck bed Sam was hiding inside. He heard those footsteps pause and didn’t bother looking up. If Gabriel wanted to stare, let him. Sam had come out here for some peace and quiet – and maybe a bit of moping, though he wasn’t admitting to that out loud – and he wasn’t going to give it up just because some stupid trickster archangel decided that he couldn’t leave Sam alone for _five freaking minutes._  

“Samosa?” The nickname was probably meant to sound teasing, but there was an edge to it that made it sound more worried than anything else. “You all right there, kiddo?” 

Sam curled his hands tight and tried not to grit his teeth. _He’s just being nice, that’s all. He’s not trying to be a dick. He’s trying to be_ nice _._ Sam blew out a breath and forced his tone to be as neutral as possible. “Fine.” 

“You sure about that? Cause, ah, you don’t exactly _look_ fine.” 

Temper curled through Sam’s gut and his muscles tensed even more. Hands curled tight into fists, he tried to stay still, tried not to lift his head to glare at the idiot who just wouldn’t _go away_. “I’m fine.” He said through gritted teeth. “I’m fine, the babies are fine, everything is just _fine_. I haven’t run away, I’m not off doing something stupid. I’m sitting in the back of a truck on Bobby’s warded property. I’m not an idiot, Gabriel. I’m not going to go out and hurt the babies. You can stop worrying about that.” 

The air felt charged with something, like a prickle of energy that was making the hairs on Sam’s arms stand up. There was a moment of quiet before Gabriel spoke again. “I didn’t think you’d done anything stupid. I was just…I worry about you, too, Sammy. Not just the babies.” 

A harsh scoff tumbled past Sam’s lips. “Yeah, right.” He had no illusions about that and he didn’t need Gabriel’s lies. “I’m just a guy you slept with.” 

It was like he could actually feel the archangel jerk back from those words. “Is that what you seriously think?” 

Sam couldn’t keep his head down anymore. He couldn’t just hide. Lifting his head, he looked to the foot of the truck where Gabriel was standing. The expression Sam saw on his face wasn’t what he’d expected. Gabriel looked like someone had slapped him. His eyes were wide and his mouth was hanging open in a little ‘o’ of surprise. It didn’t make sense to Sam. What did he have to be surprised about? “Did you seriously think I would believe anything else?” 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” The shock on Gabriel’s face wiped away to something more earnest, his eyes widening just a little, and he reached out just a bit with one hand. “Sam… you know I care about you.” The words sounded more like a question than a statement, like he was begging Sam to agree with him, to say ‘oh, yes, of course’. Only, Sam couldn’t. When he stayed quiet, Gabriel’s hand dropped down to the open tailgate and pressed flat there. “Seriously? You’re seriously going to sit there and tell me you have no idea how I feel about you. Me being here, taking care of you, _feeding_ you, helping you sleep, pitting myself against my brothers for you – none of that tells you _anything_?” 

It was like having a wish come true, only, it felt wrong. All wrong. _He doesn’t mean it. This is just, it’s because of the kids. He’s only doing this because of the babies. It’s not what he actually wants. Why would he want ME?_ The self-doubt reared its ugly head and squashed any hope Sam might’ve felt. “It tells me you want to take care of your kids.” 

Gabriel growled, actually _growled_ at him. His eyebrows furrowed down and he squared his shoulders like someone set to step into battle. “I knew I should’ve pushed this that first day. I tried to say something but you wouldn’t let me! You asked me not to and I thought, well, maybe the kid doesn’t actually like me as much as I thought. I figured we could be friends, though. But I thought for sure you at least knew that I cared about you. We’ve been sleeping together off and on for a while now! Why the hell can’t you believe that I actually care about you, you idiot? That I might want something _more?_ ” 

“Because you never wanted anything more before!” Sam spat out before he could stop himself. He saw Gabriel’s eyes go wide and cursed himself for blurting it out. They could both hear what was underneath that, the words quivering in the air between them. _You never wanted ME before._  

Gabriel stared at him and there was something old and sad in that look. “Sam…” 

“Look.” Sam cut in. He didn’t know if he could handle whatever excuses Gabriel might come up with to try and make him feel better. “It’s fine, okay? I get it. I came to terms with it a long time ago and I’ve never pushed it. I’m not gonna start now. I’m just, I’m not asking you to give me what I know you can’t. I’m just asking that you respect me enough to not try and force me into something that would just be a constant mockery of what I really want. I get that you care about these babies and I’m not going to shove you away. But please, _please_ , let me just…don’t try and pretend we’re something we’re not. I can’t take it, okay? I can’t. I know you don’t care about me like that. It’d only hurt more to have you pretend.” 

There were tears burning the backs of Sam’s eyes and he closed them, unable to stand sitting there and staring at Gabriel’s face a second longer. It hurt too much. It hurt and he just, he wanted to be far, far away from here. Sam wished with everything he had that he could just go. Somewhere that he wouldn’t have to be faced with the fact that he’d just admitted to Gabriel how pathetic he’d become and just how much he cared. 

All of a sudden the world around Sam seemed to change. Air rushed past him and his body felt tight, compressed, before going loose. The truck underneath him was gone and he stumbled a little as he twisted and fell onto something hard and yet soft. His eyes snapped open as he hit the ground and rolled, coming to a stop with his hands planted firmly in – grass? Wide eyed, Sam stared around him, shocked and just a bit scared. What the hell? 

He was in the middle of what looked like a…park? Was this a park? There were trees around him and plenty of grass, and a hill that it would seem he’d just rolled down. And over there to the right, through the trees, what looked to be a, a playground. 

“What the hell?” He mumbled to himself. Slowly, carefully, he gathered himself and pushed up to his feet. How had he gotten here? What was going on? 

Panic tickled at the back of Sam’s throat and there was the all-too-familiar sensation of adrenaline flooding his body. It was the same sensation that came any time he’d been in a life-or-death situation. Instincts took over and his body prepared to either fight or run as needed. Only, there was nothing to fight here and nothing to run from. This looked like some normal, average park. There were no monsters here, no angels, no Lucifer – nothing. Not even kids playing. It was just... him. 

Sam tried to go over what had happened, hoping to figure out what exactly was going on. There’d been nothing around them that he could think of that might’ve caused any kind of trouble. The only person he’d been with was Gabriel. And Gabriel wouldn’t have just flown him out of there. Not without coming with him. Besides, he’d snapped Sam places before and it had never felt like that. This _thing_ that had happened sort of felt more like when they’d flown with Castiel, only multiplied. But... Sam couldn’t fly. He didn’t have grace. 

_Yes I do_. 

The thought stopped him in his tracks. No, it couldn’t be... could it? 

Technically, Sam didn’t have grace. Not of his own. But he was _carrying_ grace. Was it possible that he could tap into it somehow? 

_That would explain why I’ve been able to sense Gabriel and Castiel more lately. It’s not leftover from the demon blood. It’s from having grace inside of me_. Still, was that enough to actually be able to fly? It wasn’t like he had _wings_ or anything like that. Was just grace enough to transport him somewhere? He had absolutely no idea and just standing here thinking about it was bringing up more questions than answers. There was only one way he could think of that he was going to get answers and it sure wasn’t going to happen here on some random grassy hill outside of a park in a town he didn’t even know. For a moment, Sam cursed not having his cell phone in his pocket. He hadn’t brought it out to the truck with him when he’d gone to sulk earlier. 

There’s a part of Sam that knows that all he’d have to do is pray to Gabriel. The sigils on his ribs might keep him hidden but he’s been told a direct prayer can bypass that. 

The same part of Sam that had wished him out here and away from Gabriel to begin with was now whispering that this had happened because he wanted to get away from Gabriel. For the first time in weeks he was away from everyone. No one watching over him, no one standing over his shoulder, no one trying to force him to talk about things that hurt. What could it hurt to take a little time to himself before going back home? 

_Bobby’s going to worry,_ he reminded himself. And he really didn’t want to make Bobby worry just so Sam could get some time away. _I’ll call him, let him know I’m fine and that I’ll call later when I want to come home. He won’t like it, but he won’t be able to stop it. Now... I just need to find a phone._  

* * *

That took a little bit longer than Sam had intended. First, he had to find a town, which was luckily only a ten minute walk from the park. From there he had to find somewhere that actually still had a payphone. They weren’t common anymore in this technological age. Finally he got lucky when he found one outside of the town’s public library. He’d already stopped off at a diner and exchanged a bill for some coins. There was enough for at least a quick call. 

Bobby answered in two rings “ _Singer._ ” 

“Hey, Bobby...” 

That was all Sam got out before there was a whoosh of air across the line, a grunt, and what sounded like cursing. Then Gabriel’s voice was on the line and, oh _damn_ did he sound pissed. Pissed and maybe a little...scared? “ _Where the hell are you, Sam_?” 

Sam looked around him at the decent sized town that he’d landed in. “I don’t know.” He lied, saying nothing of the map he’d spotted in the diner that clearly showed he’d somehow managed to send himself across the country to freaking California of all places. Not near Stanford, thankfully. Just some random town he’d never even heard of before. “I’m not even sure what happened or how I got here. One minute I was there and the next I’m landing on some grassy hill.” 

“ _You’re a psychic who has experience with powers and now has access to grace inside him. You’ve gotta be tapping into it somehow_.” 

Tapping into it? Horror had Sam’s eyes going wide and his mouth dropping open. His hand went tight on the telephone. “I’m not...” 

“ _No_.” Gabriel cut in before he could even finish his sentence. “ _You’re not hurting them at all, Sammy. If anything, they draw power from you, from your soul. You using the grace like that doesn’t hurt them. I’ll explain it all when you get back here. Just send up a prayer and I’ll latch on and be there in flash_.” 

The horrifying idea that he might’ve been hurting the babies inside of him inadvertently didn’t leave him easily. Sam pressed his free hand over his stomach as if he could reach inside and shelter them, even from himself. He drew in a breath and it only shook a little when he blew it back out. The end of Gabriel’s statement reminded him of his plan, though. “No.” Rubbing at his stomach, Sam tried to hold on to his earlier resolve. It was difficult when he could clearly hear the shock in Gabriel’s voice as the archangel repeated “ _No? What do you mean, no_?” 

“No, Gabriel. I don’t want to come home yet.” Sam tipped his head to rest against the casting around the payphone and wished he could close his eyes, even for a moment. Hunter’s instincts wouldn’t let him, though. He had to keep watch of his surroundings. “This is the first time in weeks that I’ve been able to get out of that house and off that property. I feel like I can actually _breathe_. So no, I’m not coming home yet. I’m going to go to the diner down the road and get something to eat that’s probably horrible for me, an that I’ll probably end up throwing up later. I’m going to sit there, by myself, and just enjoy the peace for even a little bit. I’m warded, you’ve laid extra protections on me, and I’m enough of a hunter to look out for myself for a few hours. If anything pops up, I’ll pray. If not, then you’ll hear from me in a few hours.” 

Sam didn’t give Gabriel any time to argue. He could sort of hear the archangel’s voice even as he was reaching forward to hang up the phone. 

He was probably going to get hell for this later. Not just from Gabriel but from Bobby and Dean and maybe even Castiel. In that moment, Sam didn’t care. With the few bucks in his pocket, he set off down the street and towards the diner. 

Later he would think it was Winchester luck that he only made it a block and a half before he was attacked. 

Fighting a group of demons would’ve been hard enough on his own. When he was hampered by his need to protect his stomach, it made his chances almost nothing. Sam didn’t even get a chance to send up a prayer before something hard hit his head and the whole world went dark. 


	6. Chapter 6

Being knocked out by demons and waking up somewhere strange was sadly not all that odd of an occurrence. When Sam slowly came to, there was no memory loss about what had happened. No strange sense of wondering what was going on or why his head hurt so much. He knew why his head hurt and he knew he was in so much trouble. He just hadn’t realized _how much_ trouble he was in. Not until he tried to send up a groggy prayer, still half-concussed from the blow to the head, and only managed to get out half of Gabriel’s name before a slap to the face jerked him out of his prayers and back to reality. 

“Ah, ah, ah.” A voice said. One that sent shivers down Sam’s spine. He would recognize that voice anywhere. Blinking his eyes a few times to try and clear them, the hunter looked up and just managed to make out the hazy impression of a face, blue eyes, and dirty blond hair. _Lucifer._ The fallen archangel seemed to be grinning down at him; it was still sort of hard to tell. Things were too blurred. But there was nothing hazy about the hand that gripped his chin and turned his face up a little more. “None of that now, Sammy. We don’t want you calling in the cavalry until I’m ready for them, now do we?” 

Oh, God, that didn’t sound good. That _really_ didn’t sound good. 

Sam tried to pull his face back from Lucifer’s touch and was surprised when it was allowed. The archangel didn’t try to hold him there. He just stayed squatting at Sam’s side, arms resting on his knees and hands hanging loosely in front of him, and he watched as Sam slowly became aware of his surroundings. 

The cold dirt under his face was the first thing Sam took note of. Then, as his vision began to clear and his body woke up, he noticed a little more. A wide open space, blindingly bright sunlight, a few trees in the distance, some grass around them. They were in the middle of what looked like it would be a rather nice field. Nice, if he weren’t lying on the ground with his head throbbing, a few bruises, and the devil squatting nearby. “Where am I?” Sam tried to ask. The words slurred just a little, getting a bit garbled somewhere between his throat and his lips. 

Lucifer seemed to understand, though. He smiled – and Sam shivered. There was nothing sane in that smile. He’d seen Lucifer in his dreams before. Seen him amused, annoyed, angry, proud, vengeful, but never like this. Never with a blatant insanity that was backed by the kind of fury that had Sam wondering just how much of the planet was going to survive whatever happened next. 

“We’re in Canada, actually.” Lucifer answered him. “A rather beautiful field, far enough away from anyone that we won’t be bothered. I thought you might like it here. It seemed a fitting place...” 

The way he trailed off didn’t bode well. Sam pushed himself up just a bit, at the same time scooting himself backwards. Not that he thought he could really get away. His hands curled in the grass and his whole body tensed as if in preparation to _run_. Though he was terrified of the answer, he couldn’t keep from asking “Fitting for what?” 

“The end.” 

A chill ran down Sam’s spine. His body ached, screaming at him to get up and run, to get the hell out of here, and the terror inside of him grew so strong he was almost shaking with it. He focused all his energy on wanting out of here, on getting back to Gabriel, to Bobby, to _safety_. It’d worked to teleport him somehow before. He desperately needed it to work now. 

Lucifer laughed. It was sharper than ever before and with an edge to it that had Sam flinching. “Oh, no, Sammy. You’re not going anywhere. The party hasn’t even started yet!” 

“What do you want with me? I won’t say yes!” 

Unconsciously, one of Sam’s hands slipped inwards, pressing against the almost nonexistent swell that had started to build there. It was a gesture that was fast becoming habit. Whether Sam liked what had happened to him or not, he already felt a strong protective urge. He wasn’t going to let anything happen to his children. No matter what, he would do whatever he had to to keep them safe. They might’ve been given to him by God but they were Sam’s and he had never been afraid to do whatever he had to do to protect family. In that moment, he understood his mother a little better. Understood exactly how she could’ve stepped into that nursery with Azazel, even knowing that she would most likely die in there, unarmed against a powerful demon. She’d done it to protect her son, and Sam would do no less for his little ones. 

His gesture unfortunately brought Lucifer’s gaze down there and the hate that twisted his features made Sam’s whole body jump. The panic and need to get away and protect was so terrifyingly strong. Worse than when Castiel had tried to read him with his grace. 

“If my Father thought this would make me stop, he was wrong.” The archangel hissed at him. His hands curled until they resembled claws and Sam scrambled backwards, everything in him demanding he get away. “I’ll rip out their grace and squash them in front of you until you’re screaming at me to say Yes just to make it stop. You’re _mine_ , Sam Winchester! Mine!” 

Sam had heard those words once before. They had been growled at him in an entirely different voice, golden eyes like melted honey burning into him as his body was pinned down to the bed and he was filled and surrounded entirely by a being he’d given himself over to, heart and soul. Sam’s eyes closed as his soul screamed for the only one it wanted in this moment. The only one that could save him. 

The air around them seemed charged and Sam knew that Lucifer wasn’t going to hold back. He wasn’t going to wait for whatever he’d planned before. Sam’s little gesture, a symbolic protection of the children he carried inside, had sparked a rage in Lucifer that wasn’t going to be denied. Even as Sam made to shove off the ground, as he made to run, he knew he wouldn’t be fast enough. 

He’d barely cleared his feet before Lucifer was there. The blow to his face was hard enough to send him flying. Sam hit the ground and curled in on himself as he rolled and tumbled until he smashed into a tree. The pain where his shoulders hit the tree trunk had him crying out. _Don’t stop, can’t stop, gotta move, go, move!_ Sam grabbed the tree and tried to haul himself upright, though his right arm wouldn’t quite work properly. It hung at an odd angle and his shoulder was screaming at him in a way he knew meant it was dislocated. The world spun as he dragged himself up to his feet. 

Lucifer was marching towards him and Sam saw his destruction in those icy eyes. He knew, deep down in his heart, if Lucifer was true to his word and ripped his children away from him, if he destroyed them, there would be nothing left of Sam that would want to fight. There’d be nothing left of him at all. Just an empty shell for the devil to use as he pleased. 

Gripping the tree, Sam pushed himself up all the way and prepared to run, to give his everything to protect the children inside of him, when suddenly a gust of wind whipped around them so strong it almost sent him crashing back down. Might’ve, if not for a familiar pair of hands catching hold of him and keeping him from falling. Sam looked with stunned disbelief at the person he’d wanted to see the most and the one he’d thought for sure he would never see again. 

The hand that wasn’t holding Sam up was clutching an angel blade and holding it loosely in front of him in a defensive pose. Gabriel didn’t turn to look at Sam; he stayed focused on Lucifer. “Back off, bro.” 

“ _Gabriel_.” Lucifer’s lip curled up in a sneer. “I sensed your grace on him. All over those little abominations he carries in there.” 

“Watch your mouth.” Gabriel snarled. He shifted his weight, carefully leaning Sam against the tree and making sure he was steady before he straightened up and let go of him. His whole body shifted now into a pose that Sam had used himself before; one that said he was damn well ready to fight. “Those are my kids and I won’t let you lay a hand on them, or on Sam. He’s mine.” 

Lucifer smirked. “He was mine first.” 

There were no more words. In a move so fast Sam couldn’t see it, the devil launched forward and Gabriel rushed out to meet him. What came next was too fast and too bright for human eyes. The two came together and fell apart in great flashes of light and with blasts that were like big booms of thunder, shaking the ground and vibrating Sam to his very core. He watched as best as he could and felt a sort of horrified wonder. They’d tried so hard to prevent a final battle. In doing so, had they left room for a battle no less hard or fierce? How much damage would these two cause? Michael was stronger than Gabriel, yes, so his battle with Lucifer would be worse, and Lucifer wasn’t in his True Vessel, but Gabriel was still an archangel. Would they end up destroying the planet in an effort to save it? To save _Sam_? 

He had to do something. Had to help, somehow. Sam curled his good arm around his stomach and tried to think of something to do. Anything that might help. 

Then it was too late. 

The earth shook and the whole world seemed to suddenly be consumed with the brightest light that Sam had ever seen. He let out a hoarse shout and found himself down on the ground, body curled in tight, his arm still around his stomach and his face pressed into the grass in an attempt to get away. Deep inside, there was a terrified horror, a plea to please, dear God _please_ don’t let that be Gabriel out there. Don’t let him be dead. _Please, God, don’t let him be dead._  

The feel of a hand on his shoulder jolted Sam backwards and a pained cry erupted as his dislocated arm was moved. His head shot up and his eyes were wide with fear. 

It wasn’t Lucifer kneeling in front of him, though. It was Gabriel. 

_Gabriel_. 

Sam didn’t even stop to think about his actions before he launched himself off the ground and straight for the archangel. It hurt – it hurt like hell – but at the same time it was absolutely perfect as Gabriel’s arms closed around him and he held Sam against his chest, rocking him like he was a small child and whispering soothing sounds into his ear. Most of it seemed to be in Enochian and Sam didn’t understand it but that was okay. That was fine. He was here and Gabriel was here. Gabriel was _alive_. 

“How…?” Sam choked out against the skin of Gabriel’s neck where he had his face pressed. The scent there was like honey and whiskey, lightning and the rain just before a storm, dangerous and sweet all at the same time, and it soothed some of the fear that was still sitting in Sam. The swirling feeling in his stomach settled the longer that he was held here. 

He didn’t have to ask more than that single word. Gabriel understood. His arms tightened around Sam and he slipped a hand up, healing grace flowing through his palm and into Sam’s shoulder, numbing the pop that would’ve otherwise been agonizing as his shoulder was put back into place. “I heard you, Sammy. Your soul was screaming for me.” 

“I…I tried to pray but he…he stopped it, somehow… I didn’t….” 

“Shh.” Gabriel turned his head and pressed a kiss against Sam’s hair. His one hand was still stroking over him, healing every little mark he found. The pain of bruises was fading away; his concussion was gone. “He stopped prayers but he couldn’t stop your soul calling out to me.” 

Sam lifted both arms now that they weren’t hurting and he wrapped them tight around Gabriel. “You came.” He whispered. 

“I’ll always come.” 

_For the babies_ , a voice in Sam’s mind whispered tauntingly. 

The hand on his back froze for a second and then slid up, into his hair, gripping just tight enough to pull Sam’s head back so that he had no choice but to look into Gabriel’s face. The light in his eyes seemed to be glowing brighter than ever. Sam could see the grace inside of Gabriel and it held him spellbound. “For _you_ , Sam Winchester.” Gabriel’s voice carried a resonance to it that Sam felt through every inch of him. “I’ll always come for you, you stubborn, foolish, insufferable _human_. You’re _mine_. You’ve been mine since the first day I tumbled your ass into bed. I claimed you – as Loki, and as Gabriel. And I don’t claim anyone lightly.” 

“But…but you…” Sam hated how much he was stammering. In this moment, when he needed words the most, they seemed to be failing him. Something that felt like hope was unfurling in his chest and the whole world was waiting as if on bated breath for whatever was going to come next. 

Gabriel’s face gentled and he gave a light tug to Sam’s hair. “I never thought you’d want anything more than what we had. I didn’t think you’d want to tie yourself down to me. I’m not good, Sam.” His eyes sharpened and his whole expression turned dangerous, a tightening to his features that was both threat and promise. Even his voice darkened. “I’m not good and I am not kind. I’ve bathed in more blood than you can even begin to imagine.” 

It struck Sam then, as he stared up at him, just how alike they both were. Both of them had their darkness to them. Both had parts of themselves that had done horrible, terrible things, albeit on entirely different scales. And they both believed they were far too dark to deserve the other. 

The idea that Gabriel would believe he didn’t deserve Sam was astounding. Looking at the trickster in front of him without his own fears getting in the way this time, Sam was able to see so much more. To see things in a new light. All the times they’d been together were changed in that moment as Sam looked at them with clear eyes that were no longer clouded by self-doubt. In them, he could see the affection, the fear, the honest caring that Gabriel carried for him. He could see it all. And if he couldn’t, the proof was lying a few yards away in the slumped body and the ash of wings burnt into the ground. _Gabriel loved him._ Those words echoed through Sam and filled him with so much joy it felt like he was going to overflow with it. _Gabriel loved him._  

What had once seemed so terrifying now felt so easy. Sam leaned in and pressed his lips against Gabriel’s in a kiss that was gentle, almost chaste, and yet packed with every bit of love that he could pour into it. He felt Gabriel startle and then press in as well and take everything that Sam was giving him, offering up his own in return. 

When they pulled apart, Sam opened his eyes, their lips and noses brushing against one another. He waited until Gabriel’s eyes opened up to meet his. The happy, hazy look in them had turned them to liquid gold, and Sam knew he could spend the rest of his life chasing that look right there. It was the easiest thing he’d ever done to smile and say the words he hadn’t thought he’d ever get to say. “I love you.” 

The joy that leapt into Gabriel’s eyes warmed him straight down to his soul. He felt Gabriel’s hand tighten in his hair and his other hand pressed firm against Sam’s back, dragging him in closer until he was sitting astride Gabriel’s lap. “About damn time you figured it out.” 

A laugh bubbled up from Sam. He slung his arms around Gabriel’s neck and was still laughing even as he pressed another kiss to his lips. 

“I love you too, Sam.” Gabriel whispered against his lips. 

Things weren’t perfect – there was still going to be a lot of trouble waiting for them, a lot of fallout from today – but they were so much better. And Sam had a feeling he could face whatever came his way so long as he always had his trickster archangel at his side.


End file.
